Resident Evil: Project Lucifer
by Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom
Summary: Who or what is Lucifer? And just who is behind the Lucifer Project? Set in the nightmarish world of Resident Evil, this is the story of Jack and Lisa, two teens who find themselves in the midst of disaster...
1. At First Sight

**Resident Evil: Project Lucifer  
**A fanfiction by the Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom

_To Matthew, my husband-to-be, with unending love and devotion.  
_

**The Obligatory Disclaimer:**

Before we begin, a brief caveat for legal reasons. The Resident Evil franchise is owned by Capcom, as are all associated products. Anything you happen to recognise from the games is their intellectual property. Any pop culture references you happen to spot aren't mine either. The rest, however, is entirely the product of my overheated imagination.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. This story is rated PG-13. That means it contains gore, violence, swearing, and zombies. Lots of zombies.

You have now been duly warned. Enjoy!

**1: At First Sight**

**Monday June 22nd, 1998**

As places went, Raccoon City was pretty ordinary. It was an industrial town in the American Midwest, surrounded by forest, a few miles south of the Arklay mountain range. It had busy neighbourhoods, thriving businesses of all sizes, some fine old buildings and a population of one hundred thousand people. Although it wasn't exactly the kind of place that you'd go out of your way to visit, it was peaceful, prosperous, and generally considered to be a pleasant place in which to live.

Today was a bright and beautiful summer's day, and the rays of morning sunlight peeking over the rooftops seemed to have entirely transformed the town; steel shone, glass sparkled, and bricks and stone became things of beauty. Even people's moods seemed to have been brightened by the glorious weather.

In uptown Raccoon City, where the handsome old buildings were bathed in golden sunshine, people were happily going about their business as usual. It was quiet here, away from the frantic rush of downtown. An old woman was doing her shopping, a young couple strolled down the street hand in hand, and a cat was sitting near the edge of the sidewalk, basking in the sunshine.

And then the peace was suddenly shattered.

"Excuse me!"

The old woman jumped to one side with a screech of fright, dropping her shopping bag on the sidewalk.

"Watch out, kitty!"

The cat leapt up and ran away in alarm, not stopping to look back at what had disturbed its early morning nap. Shortly afterwards, the young couple were almost bowled over.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" yelled the man, catching his girlfriend as she stumbled and almost fell.

"Sorry!" gasped the cause of the disruption, a petite teenage girl, but she didn't stop running or even slow down. Instead she kept running, even after she reached the end of the sidewalk, giving the side-street only the briefest glance as she checked for incoming traffic. It was hardly looking both ways before crossing the street, she knew, but she was already late and didn't have a single second to spare, not even for road safety.

Pushing her long hair out of her face and trying to ignore the dead weight of the backpack on her back, she kept running until she reached her destination - a pleasant, old-fashioned building about three storeys high, set in a concrete yard and surrounded by iron railings. The sign beside the wrought-iron gates read:

RACCOON CITY HIGH SCHOOL

Automatically, the girl's eyes travelled up to the clock just above the main doors; as she feared, she was late.

She swore under her breath, then hurried across the yard and up the steps. She pushed open the doors, wincing as the old hinges creaked, and slipped inside the building. The doors slammed behind her.

The hallway was cool and dim - rather like the boys in her class, now that she came to think about it - and her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden gloom after the bright sunlight.

There was nobody here. The hall wasn't silent, as it was before and after school; instead there was a hush, with the faint murmurs of voices in the rooms beyond. That meant that everyone else was in class - and that she was very late.

"Oh, hell," moaned the girl. "She's going to _kill_ me…"

"She" referred to the ninth-grade teacher, Mrs Bietelbaum. Mrs Bietelbaum was a sour-faced and rather grouchy woman who was approaching retirement age. Excuses, laziness, inattention in class, failure to hand in homework on time - Mrs Bietelbaum detested all these things, but what she hated most of all was lateness.

With growing apprehension, the girl passed the lockers that lined the hallway, turned left and went up the stairs as quickly as possible. Upstairs corridor, third door on the right… at the end of the school year, finding her classroom was almost second nature.

She listened for a moment at the door, then pushed the door open as quietly as possible.

As one, her classmates all looked up from their work as she came in. Mrs Bietelbaum, who was dressed in her usual outfit of floral skirt, über-fluffy cardigan and flat brown shoes, turned round from drawing a diagram on the chalkboard to glare at her.

"It's nine-fifteen, Lisa Hartley! You're late!" she barked.

Mumbling an apology, Lisa made her way to her usual desk. She dumped her backpack on the floor, pulled back her hard wooden chair and sat down. One by one, the others returned their attention to their work, disappointed that there hadn't been more of a scene.

Lisa turned her head to greet the girl next to her, as she always did, but gave a start when she saw that her usual neighbour had gone. Sitting in her place was a boy that she'd never seen before.

Compared to her impeccably groomed classmates, the new boy was shockingly scruffy. He was dressed in torn jeans, worn-out sneakers, a Marilyn Manson t-shirt, and a faded lumberjack shirt with half the buttons missing. His hair was blond and cut short except for his fringe, which was slightly too long, and he had bright, curious blue eyes.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

"Uh… hey," said Lisa, remembering to smile. "What happened to Charlotte?"

"Who?" said the boy, looking puzzled.

"Charlotte Lascelles. The girl who was sitting here last week," said Lisa.

The boy just shrugged.

"I dunt know," he said. "I no here last week. I just move here from Tijuana. Name's Jack Carpenter, by the way. How 'bout you?"

"Lisa. Lisa Hartley. Nice to meet you, Jack."

They reached over and shook hands.

"So… you're Mexican?" said Lisa. "I was wondering why I hadn't seen you round before. I guess that explains it."

"Actually, I be born in 'Frisco," explained Jack. "My mama, she an' her _hermana _be from Mexico, but me? Nuh-uh. Hell, I dunt even look like her. I take after my dad."

"San Francisco, huh? So how come you ended up in Tijuana?" said Lisa.

"My aunt Rosa, she live there," said the boy. "Or did, anyway. She hadda move here 'cause she get busted too many times for streetwalkin', so I hadda move too. I live with her, see."

"Why?" said Lisa, without thinking. "What happened to your parents?"

She immediately regretted asking the question. Jack's grin disappeared, and he lowered his head, staring down at his desk.

"I'm sorry," Lisa said quickly. "Forget I asked. It's none of my business anyway."

"No, dunt worry," said Jack, looking up again. "You dint say nothin' bad. Well, my dad be in jail right now an' my mama, she die ten years ago. So I go to Mexico to live with Aunt Rosa. An' sorry 'bout my English. It ain't so good, I know - I be outta practise. I speak English an' Spanish, but my aunt dunt speak much English, so when I go to live wit her in Mexico, I only speak Spanish. This be the first time I speak English in ten years."

"Ten years? Wow. So you haven't spoken English since kindergarten, then?"

"Nope. I gotta relearn a lot of it, 'cause I forget most of it. Dunt s'pose you speak Spanish, do you?" said Jack hopefully.

Lisa shook her head, and he looked disappointed.

"No, but I've always wanted to learn it," she said.

Jack brightened again.

"Yeah? You want maybe I teach you some?" he said.

"Really? I'd like that. Thank you," said Lisa.

"You welcome," said Jack. "By the way, the teacher just ask you a question."

Lisa looked up, startled, and saw Mrs Bietelbaum looking straight at her.

"Well? What _is_ apartheid, Miss Hartley?" she said impatiently.

"Oh! Oh, well, it's, uh… apartheid is… when… uh…" Lisa floundered, unable to remember the word's meaning even though she'd learned it and she _knew_ what it was.

"It be when black people ain't allowed to sit with white people, an' they gotta use they own swimmin' pool an' shops an' stuff," said Jack under his breath.

Lisa looked at him gratefully, relieved that she'd been bailed out in a moment of need, and said:

"Uh, it's racial segregation, Mrs Bietelbaum."

"Correct, but I'd prefer you to actually listen instead of just hoping your neighbour will give you a hint," said Mrs Bietelbaum coldly. "Please pay more attention in future."

With that, the teacher returned to the front of the classroom and carried on talking.

"Thanks, Jack. You just saved my butt," said Lisa.

"Dunt worry 'bout it. You woulda done the same for me, right?" said Jack.

"Sure," said Lisa, and they both smiled.

The class continued. Morning gradually gave way to afternoon, and by the time the bell sounded at three o'clock, signifying the end of the school day, Lisa and Jack were well on the way to becoming best friends.

"All right," announced Mrs Bietelbaum. "I want that assignment in by Thursday. That's _Thursday, _Tyrone. _This_ Thursday. Do I make myself clear? All right then. Off you go."

The door swung open, letting out a steady stream of students eager to leave the stuffy classroom and equally stuffy teacher behind. Glad that she was finally leaving the smell of chalk, floor wax and the lingering aroma of former class pets behind her, at least for another day, Lisa swung her backpack onto her back and made her way down the corridor at a quick pace.

Down the stairs, back down the hallway - now crowded with high-schoolers on their way out of classes - and then she stepped out of the doors and into the yard, blinking in the afternoon sunlight.

Jack drew level with her as she went down the steps, still standing out like a sore thumb in a crowd of boys with branded sweatshirts, designer jeans and five hundred dollar watches. Lisa smiled when she saw him. It was nice to see someone who didn't look exactly the same as everyone else.

"Bye, Jack," she called, raising her voice over the boys' loud conversation. "See you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, see you _mañana_," said Jack.

They left the school gates. Lisa turned left; glancing backwards, she saw Jack turn right, presumably heading towards downtown. She briefly wondered where he lived, then chided herself for being nosy. It was none of her business where he lived, and she had better things to do than follow him home to find out.

Lisa headed for home, settling into the familiar routine of the walk home. She let her feet do the tedious business of walking while her thoughts wandered free.

Somehow the world felt different today. It was as if something important was happening, or going to happen - something big that would change absolutely everything. Whether it was good or bad, she didn't know, but whatever it was, she got the distinct feeling that it was about to change her life forever…


	2. The Invitation

****

2: The Invitation

Sunday 6th September 1998

Jack stared up at the windows of the house, and wondered if Lisa was at home. Not that it mattered, of course, since he wouldn't be allowed to see her anyway. Lisa's parents disapproved of him – no, her father disapproved of him. Her mother _hated_ him.

It might have had something to do with what happened in July, when he'd visited Lisa's house for the first time. He'd been showing off some skateboard tricks for Lisa in the Hartleys' front yard, and then he'd lost his balance and fallen into a flowerbed, completely ruining the pretty yellow tulips. That was when Lisa's mother, a keen gardener, had arrived on the scene.

Lisa had defended him, of course – after all, she was his best friend – but her mother had still screamed at him for a full fifteen minutes and threatened to call the police if he ever came to their house again. These days, he didn't dare to go any further than the gate. He couldn't afford to get into any more trouble.

Jack belonged to one of Raccoon City's numerous teenage skating gangs, which immediately made him a criminal in the eyes of Lisa's parents, even though the Street Rats had never been involved in the gang wars or even so much as a minor scuffle with rivals.  
  
Unfortunately for Jack and his friends, the police shared the Hartleys' deeply-held conviction that all of the city's young skaters were vandals and thugs who were a menace to society, and Jack had already been arrested twice since his arrival in the city, simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
One more time, his aunt had warned him, and he was going to military school. And that meant no more Lisa, ever again.

The thought of Lisa made him smile. Until he met her, he'd never really had any friends, and he'd taken an instant dislike to the other kids in Raccoon City High. They were all so shallow and insincere, and they looked down on anyone who wasn't like them. But Lisa was different. She was the only one in the class who'd talk to him, spend time with him, or sit by him in the canteen. She was the only one who cared.

After a while, he'd made friends with some of the other kids in his neighbourhood, and when they found out that he could skate, he'd been accepted into the Street Rats. But although Jack enjoyed the company of his skater friends from downtown, he still preferred being with Lisa.

One day, Jack had turned down a visit to the local skate park with the Street Rats because he'd already promised to go to the movies with Lisa. One of his friends had joked, "What, she your girlfriend or something?", and later that day, when he was sitting next to Lisa in the movie theatre, Jack realised how nice it would be to call Lisa his girlfriend.

That was when he realised that he was in love with her. She was so sweet and gentle, so kind, so pretty with her long brown hair and dark, intense eyes. All he thought about was her, and how happy she made him feel.

And yet the mere suggestion of Lisa caused him unimaginable pain. Although he loved her more than life itself, Jack knew that Lisa could never be his girlfriend. She was an uptown girl – beautiful, rich and respectable. And what was he?

Lisa's mother was right, he told himself. He was nothing. Nothing but white trash; a stupid, useless, inarticulate piece of criminal garbage who wasn't fit to breathe the same air as Lisa. He drank, he swore, he lived above a crummy downtown record store with an aunt whose profession was the oldest in the world – hell, he couldn't even speak English properly. Lisa deserved better than him.

Anger suddenly welled up inside him. Why was he so poor? Why did everyone from uptown hate him so much? Why did he have to live with his aunt, one of the so-called "ladies of the night"? Why couldn't he just fit in for once in his life?

Jack vented his feelings on a nearby pebble, which skittered away down the sidewalk and out of sight. _It ain't fair_, he thought bitterly. _Why do things gotta be this way?_

It was then that Jack noticed the curtains twitch. He stiffened in terror, then turned and ran away as fast as he could. If that was Lisa's mother, and she'd seen him, then he was in big trouble. She'd threatened to call the police before, and something in her voice told Jack that she really meant it. If she caught him and called the cops, he'd be arrested, his aunt would find out, and she'd send him to military school or something, and he'd never see Lisa ever again.

Oh God, he prayed, _please dunt let that be Lisa's mama. I wanna see Lisa 'gain, I love her, oh God I love her so much… please, dunt let it be _Señora_ Hartley, she gonna call _losverdes_ an' I get busted, an' then Aunt Rosa gonna send me away, an' if I no can see Lisa 'gain I gonna die, I no can live without her, I love her, I love her …_

"Jack?" said someone behind him.

Jack stopped dead, and turned round; his terror melted away into relief as he saw Lisa standing in the middle of the road, looking prettier than ever.

"What is it, Jack?" she said. "I saw you through the curtains. You're lucky my mom didn't see you. Today is her day off, and she really means it about calling the cops. So, what brings you here?"

At first, Jack didn't know what to say - he didn't have a reason for visiting Lisa. He'd just wanted to see her again. But then he remembered something, and an idea brought a smile to his face.

"I just came to ask if you be busy tonight," he said. "If you ain't busy, you wanna go to a party? My _amigo_ Marco got a big brother, Antonio, an' it be his birthday today, so he be havin' a party over at his place tonight. Of course, if you dunt wanna go," he said quickly, "that ain't a problem."

Jack expected her to say no; it took him completely by surprise when Lisa smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Sure, I'll go," said Lisa. "I love parties. What time?"

"Eight. Meet you here, yeah? I dunt want you goin' downtown on you own so late. It be gettin' dark early these days, an' there be a lot of crazies round here lately. I worry 'bout you," said Jack.

"You're sweet sometimes," said Lisa, smiling. "You know that, don't you?"

She kissed him on the cheek.

"See you tonight, Jack," she called as she left.

"Yeah, see you," Jack said vaguely. He raised a hand to his cheek, and touched the spot where she'd kissed him. A smile crept across his face.

"I love you," he whispered to her retreating back. The words made him dizzy, breathless and blissfully happy, but they were tainted with an all too familiar feeling of despair.

"I _never_ gonna be able to say it to her face," he said to himself. "But what the hell, it no like I ever gonna have a chance. An' she prob'ly dunt want me anyway. Why would she ever want a guy like me?"

Half lost in dreams, Jack watched until she was out of sight, then muttered, "The hell with it," and went home.  
  
----------  
  
"Who was that?" Lisa's mother demanded to know, as Lisa shut the door.

"A friend of mine," said Lisa.

"I hope it wasn't that boy from downtown," said her mother sharply. "You know I don't like you hanging around with him, Lisa. He's no good."

Lisa felt a sudden surge of annoyance, as she always did when faced with her mother's undisguised contempt for "that downtown boy".

"No, it wasn't Jack," she lied. She didn't like lying, but on the other hand it was better than being grounded when her mother found out who she'd _really_ been talking to. "It was my friend Sarah. She was asking me if I wanted to go to a party at Luanne's house. Can I, Mom?"

"I guess so," said her mother warily. "What time?"

"About eight. It should be over by eleven or twelve."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose that's okay. But I want you back here by twelve, right?"

"Sure, Mom," said Lisa, and she went upstairs, still inwardly seething with rage. Why did her mother hate Jack so much? It wasn't his fault that his aunt was a prostitute, or that he was poor and a little scruffy because he couldn't afford new clothes. Her mother always claimed that she didn't like Jack because of what he'd done to the prize-winning tulips in the front yard, but Lisa suspected that the real reason was nothing more than snobbery.

The bedroom door closed behind her. Lisa sat down at her dressing table, and glared at her reflection in the mirror.

"Mom's being so _stupid_," she said to the world in general as she picked up a hairbrush and started brushing her hair. "Jack's not a bad kid. He's a nice guy, and he's my friend. Why does she hate him?"

Her reflection shrugged, echoing the movements of the original. Lisa scowled, and was about to turn away when she noticed something hidden behind the mirror, a corner just showing.

Intrigued, she tilted the mirror and discovered a Polaroid photograph. Her face softened as she saw that the people in the photo were Jack and herself. Lisa suddenly remembered that she'd hidden the photograph there a few days ago, in case her mother found it and raised hell (she didn't even like a _picture_ of Jack in the house, let alone the real thing), and she must have forgotten about it.

It had been taken quite recently, in front of Raccoon City High School. She and Jack were sitting on the steps, enjoying the sunshine. She was wearing a pretty summer dress and resting her head on Jack's shoulder; Jack was wearing a T-shirt, a tattered Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, and he had his arm around her. Just visible around his neck was a chain with a gold ring strung on it – his dead mother's wedding ring. He'd shown it to her once; it was plain gold, not particularly beautiful or valuable, but then that wasn't the reason why Jack kept it close to him.

"It be all I got left of Mama," he'd told her. "Most people say, you prob'ly dunt remember you mama, she die when you be little, but I remember Mama all right, an' I miss her. But if I wear this round my neck all the time, I remember her, an' it be like she still with me, y'know? Wherever I go, Mama go with me; I can, like, feel her standin' next to me sometimes. Yeah, I know it be real stupid. You thinkin' I be loco, right?"

"No, Jack," she'd replied. "I don't think you're crazy at all."

Not for the first time, Lisa wondered how Jack's mother had died. He'd never told her, and she'd never asked, since the mere mention of his mother was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Lisa couldn't stand seeing anyone cry, least of all her best friend.

So, what to wear tonight? She wouldn't dress up too much, of course - she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself by wearing fancy clothes and proper jewellery. It didn't pay to advertise wealth in downtown. On the other hand she wanted to look nice for Jack. This wasn't unusual; she liked to look nice. What _was_ unexpected was that she found herself wanting to impress him as well.

"Why?" Lisa asked herself. "Jack doesn't try and impress me - "

She stopped mid-sentence. But he did, didn't he? Jack was always trying to scrape together money for new clothes, or at least enough quarters to use down at the laundrette so he could wash his old ones. He cut his own hair so it vaguely resembled the haircuts of the other guys in the tenth grade, and he tried so hard to improve his English when she was around. And whenever she touched him, even if she just brushed past him in class on her way to the blackboard, he'd tremble a little, as if he suddenly felt cold, and then he'd just look up at her and smile. She always felt like smiling back, too.

Did he have a crush on her? Her friends certainly seemed to think so. They called him "the downtown puppy" and made jokes about how he was always following her around with an adoring gaze and his jaw on the floor. Yes, he probably did. The question was, was the feeling mutual? Oh, he was good-looking, no doubt about that, and he could be quite sweet at times, but had she fallen for him?

No. She hadn't. That was fortunate, since her parents loathed him. Having a crush on Jack would have made things very difficult indeed.

Lisa spent another few seconds looking at the picture. Then she tucked it carefully back into the mirror frame and started to do her makeup, humming to herself.


	3. Antonio's Party

**3: Antonio's Party**

Jack waited on the corner of the street, and looked up at the sky. It was getting darker now, and colder. The chill was beginning to seep through his shirt, and he wished he'd put something warmer on. Too late for that now, though – Lisa was already coming down the street, looking pretty and well-dressed as always.

"Ready to go?" she said.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Let's go."

Lisa noticed that as they got further away from uptown Raccoon City, Jack appeared to be more comfortable in his surroundings. In uptown he looked tense and ill at ease, and always seemed poised to run away at the very sight of another person. But here, closer to downtown – this was his territory, and he looked relaxed and confident as he walked the streets, knowing that this was where he belonged.

"Nearly there," said Jack, as the scenery gave way to shops instead of houses, and streets that were lined with parked cars instead of trees.

"Where does Antonio live, again?" asked Lisa.

"Corner of Wells an' Hinterland," replied Jack. "Two blocks away."

"Not far, then," she said.

They walked on. Soon the air was ringing with distant laughter, music, a murmur of conversation and the occasional shout.

Jack grinned. "Sounds like the party start already," he said.

And there was indeed a crowd gathering in the street below Antonio's second-floor apartment. Some of them shouted greetings to Jack as he and Lisa came into view. Jack waved by means of reply, and carried on upstairs to Antonio's apartment.

Inside, the party was in full swing. The room was packed and the music was painfully loud, and people were still pouring into the apartment. Antonio, a dapper young man who looked slightly older than his nineteen years, came to greet them.

"Well, look who's here!" Antonio exclaimed. "Good to see you, Jack. And I believe this is the gorgeous uptown girl you've been tellin' us all about," he said, taking Lisa's hand and kissing it theatrically. "Lisa, isn't it? Lisa Hartley?"

"Yeah," said Jack warmly. "An' she may be an uptown girl, but she got a downtown soul. If she got a diff'rent start in life, she be skatin' with the rest of us. I dunt think she really belong in uptown."

"Maybe you're right," conceded Antonio. "Or maybe not. A beer?"

"One for me an' one for Lise," said Jack. "An' can you no turn you music down a little? We all bein' deafened in here."

"Comin' right up," promised Antonio, and he vanished into the mass of people. Almost instantly the sound level dropped by half, and Antonio returned with two opened beer bottles.

"Good turnout," said Lisa, gesturing to the other people in the room.

"Not bad," agreed Antonio. "Not bad at all, considerin' I only invited ten people."

"How many you got here tonight?" asked Jack.

"I'd say forty, maybe forty-five," said Antonio. "Not countin' everyone outside in the street. Good thing my mom's out tonight."

He chuckled, and wandered off to talk to someone else.

"C'mon," said Jack, "I introduce you round. You wanna meet the rest of the Street Rats? I tell 'em all 'bout you; they say you sound real nice, an' they like to meet you sometime. An' there be no time like the present, right?"

"That's true," agreed Lisa. She scanned the room quickly, but couldn't find anyone that looked even remotely like they belonged to a skating gang. Most of the people in here were girls, with Antonio moving from person to person, being the perfect host.

"So where are they?" she said, after a while.

"Outside, I guess," said Jack. "They ain't the type to stand round all night makin' small talk. Yo, Antonio! We goin' outside to see the crew!"

"Sure thing, _amigo_. I'll catch you later," called Antonio.

xxxxxxxxxx

The people outside were skating when Jack and Lisa went back downstairs and out onto the street. Music pounded from a little CD player on the pavement as the skaters showed off their skills to each other, and Jack had to shout to make himself heard over the noise. When they did eventually hear him, though, they stopped what they were doing and rushed over to greet him.

"Hey, it's Jack!"

"Nice to see ya, man."

"Hey, guys," said Jack, cool as ice now that he was among friends. "You dunt like it inside with Antonio an' the _chicas_, huh? Dunt blame you. Lise – these be my _amigos_, the Street Rats."

"Hey," they all chorused. One by one, they introduced themselves to Lisa. There was Alena, a Latina girl with dreadlocks; Marco, a slightly younger, more belligerent version of Antonio; bespectacled former nerd Roland; scarlet-nailed, trashy Tiffany, draped in costume jewellery; diminutive Ritchie in his New York Yankees baseball cap; tall, moody-looking Eduardo; willowy Columbine, with a thick French accent; Almond, a honey-haired beauty with large almond-shaped eyes; Valerio, a grinning, handsome boy with blond hair; Maddy, an Australian girl with frizzy hair and a Billabong t-shirt; spiky-haired punk rocker Mitch; Raphael the surfer dude, and a dark-haired boy who was mysteriously nicknamed "Batman".

"Guys, this be my friend Lisa from uptown," said Jack, gesturing to Lisa. "You remember I tell you 'bout her?"

"Sure do, bro," said the one who'd identified himself as Antonio's little brother, Marco. Like the others, Marco dressed skater-style, with baggy shorts and a hooded sweatshirt, and he carried a skateboard under one arm.

It was almost like a uniform, thought Lisa. A rainbow of t-shirts and hooded tops; jeans, shorts or cargo pants; old sneakers in varying stages of disintegration. But although the Street Rats all dressed the same way, they managed to retain individuality – each person had a unique and distinctive style. This cheered Lisa up; the girls in her class all dressed the same way too, but with virtually no room for innovation. Every one of them wore the latest designer clothes and shoes and whatever accessories were in vogue that season, and any deviation from the approved formula was greeted with derision and ridicule. Jack scornfully referred to the girls as "the Calvin Klones", and now Lisa understood what he meant. The Street Rats acknowledged their similarities, but they also celebrated their differences; the girls in her class merely tried to look identical. Lisa knew which group she preferred.

"Nice to meet you, Marco," said Lisa.

"Same here," said Marco.

"We've heard a lot about you," added Tiffany.

"I hope it was all good," said Lisa.

"_Mais bien sûr_!" said Columbine, smiling. "_Il pensait que vous êtes un vraiment ange, et il vous aime beaucoup_. _Il parle toujours au sujet de vous. "Lisa_," _il dit, "elle est si belle, je l'aime!" Et je pense qu' il a raison – vous êtes très jolie_!"

"Uh, my French is a little rusty," said Lisa, bewildered. "Can someone translate?"

"My pardon to you_,_" said Columbine, in broken English. "My English, he is not so good like yours. I say that Jack, he is thinking that you are beautiful, a real angel, and he is talking about you all the times."

"He does?" said Lisa.

"Oh yeah, you bet," said Roland fervently. "Jack, uh… thinks very highly of you."

"He sure does," agreed Mitch. "Well, guys, we gonna hang round here doin' nothin', or are we gonna skate till our feet drop right off? C'mon, let's impress the uptown girl!"

"Yeah!"

And they did. Lisa watched in fascination as the Street Rats tried out their favourite skate tricks, riding rails and walls, jumping over fire hydrants and bins, weaving in and out of traffic cones, and grinding everything in sight. They were leaping, grinding, spinning, speeding away, swerving and dodging and curving smoothly around, never so much as brushing each other. It was like an extremely well choreographed dance; it was a joy to watch, and Lisa couldn't take her eyes off the skaters' graceful, practised movements. One in particular caught her eye.

Jack saw her watching him, and grinned.

"You like it, Lise?" he said.

"Absolutely _brilliant_," said Lisa. "But I bet none of you could jump all the way over a car."

"You got yourself a Doubting Thomas there, mate," laughed Maddy.

"What? An unbeliever?" said Valerio, feigning shock. "Show her, Jack!"

"Okay," said Jack, picking up his skateboard and walking over to the nearest car, a dull red saloon with several large dents in the side. He took up a position about ten feet away from the rear bumper, and then he backed away.

"You watch this," said Alena to Lisa. "He's the best. Just watch this."

Lisa watched as Jack placed his skateboard carefully on the ground. He stared at the car for a second; suddenly he jumped onto the skateboard and started moving towards the saloon at full speed.

"He's going to run straight into that," said Lisa, faintly alarmed.

"Nah," said Alena. "He won't. Watch."

Sure enough, Jack jumped up, and he and the skateboard lifted right off the ground as if by magic. The whole world seemed to slow down as boy and board soared high above the battered old car.

"Long live the Street Rats!" shouted Jack triumphantly, punching the air with his fist, and as she looked up, Lisa was suddenly filled with admiration and wonder for Jack, the skating hero of her daydreams.

It was, she thought, the perfect moment. Jack hung in the air, suspended in hang-time, a magnificent young prince in a lumberjack shirt and ripped jeans, shining in the pale glow of the streetlights.

Then time and speed rushed back into the world again, and Jack landed smoothly on the ground, a few feet ahead of the car's front bumper. He grinned from ear to ear as the Street Rats whooped and cheered.

"Didja see that?" exclaimed Maddy. "Didja? Good on ya, Jack!"

"Woohoo! You _rock_, man!" said Valerio, slapping him on the back.

"Way to go, _amigo_!" called Marco, as he and Jack high-fived.

"_Absolument_ _fabuleux,_" agreed Columbine.

"Like, totally neat," said Raphael. "Good one, Jack dude."

"Encore!" shouted Ritchie.

"_Gracias_, guys," said Jack. "So, we gonna go inside an' wreck Antonio's flirt-fest, or we gonna stay out here all night? 's gettin' pretty cold now."

"Yeah, let's go," said Almond. "It's freezing out here."

One by one, they started to drift back inside, heading for the light, warmth and noise of Antonio's apartment. Soon only Jack and Lisa were left outside.

Jack was leaning against a streetlight, his eyes closed, and he was smiling like someone who'd just found out all the secrets of the universe.

"You were really great, Jack," said Lisa.

"Really?" said Jack, opening his eyes and looking straight at her. "You think so?"

"Would I have said it if I didn't mean it?" said Lisa.

"Course not," said Jack. "What'm I, stupid or somethin'?"

"No," said Lisa. "You're not stupid. You're wonderful."

Jack went pink with pleasure.

"Lise?" he said.

"Yes, Jack?"

"I think you be wonderful too."

Lisa smiled at this. She couldn't help it; he looked so adorable with his big blue eyes and his fringe all messed up, and his smile was bordering on the angelic.

"Come on inside, Jack," she said, tugging him by the arm. "You're going to freeze if you stay out here much longer."

"Okay," said Jack, and he followed her obediently inside.


	4. Going Home

****

4: Going Home

A few hours later, Jack noticed that Lisa was yawning. Concerned, he put down his drink and went over to talk to her.

"You okay, Lise? You look tired," said Jack.

"Oh, I'm not tired," Lisa insisted. "I'm absolutely - "

She yawned again.

"Tired out," Jack finished.

"I guess I am a little bit tired," admitted Lisa, yawning a third time.

"I think maybe it be time for you to go," said Jack. "C'mon, I walk you home."

"Okay," said Lisa sleepily, and Jack took her by the arm.

"Antonio, I gonna take Lisa home, right? Catch you roun'," called Jack.

"Sure thing, Jack. Nice to meet you, Lisa," said Antonio.

"You too, Antonio," said Lisa. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," said Antonio, waving goodbye.

Lisa and Jack returned the gesture, and went out into the night. It was colder now, and the sudden chill of the night air startled Lisa back into complete wakefulness.

They walked in silence for a while, their breath hanging like smoke in the freezing air as they left the downtown area.

Lisa glanced at Jack. He caught her eye, and smiled.

"You have a good time?" he asked. "I know it ain't what you be used to, but - "

"Oh, no, I had a great time," said Lisa quickly. "It was fun, and your friends are really nice. I wish I had friends like that."

"But you got plenty of friends, Lise," said Jack, amazed. "What 'bout all the uptown kids we go to school with? They you friends, ain't they?"

"They're not my friends, Jack. Not really. I just hang out with them because my parents won't let me hang out with anyone else. Like you. You're much nicer than all of them put together. I wish they'd all stop being so mean to you," said Lisa.

"I dunt mind," lied Jack.

"I do," said Lisa. "Just because you're not like them, it doesn't mean you're bad. You don't sneer at people because they're different, or assume that you're always right, or push people around all the time. You don't look down on people if they live downtown or if they can't afford the latest clothes. And you don't talk about people behind their backs like those stupid two-faced Calvin Klone uptown girls. That's why I like you."

A moment later, Lisa realised that she was walking on her own, and she turned around. Jack was standing, open-mouthed, in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Really?" he said at last.

"Uh-huh," said Lisa, idly glancing at her watch. "Well, let's -"

She froze, and looked at her watch again.

"Oh, no," she groaned. "It's nearly one o'clock! I promised my mom I'd be home by twelve! Oh, she is going to _kill_ me!"

Lisa started to run, but Jack caught her up easily and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to stop.

"Wait a minute, Lise," he said. "Even if you run the whole way, you still gonna be late gettin' home. Dunt bother. Save you breath an' walk, yeah?"

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

"You're right. There's no point. I'm going to be in big trouble anyway, so I might as well use the extra time walking to think of a decent excuse," she said.

So Jack and Lisa walked back to Lisa's house, concocting various explanations as to why Lisa was so late coming home. The way back seemed much shorter, and soon they were just a few blocks away from where Lisa lived.

Before either of them knew it, they were standing outside Lisa's house. Jack sighed deeply as he saw where they were.

"What is it?" said Lisa.

"I really like talkin' to you," Jack confessed. "I wish it take much longer to walk you home, 'cause then I can talk to you for longer. But you be home now, an' I gotta say goodbye."

"Yes."

"But I dunt wanna say goodbye to you, Lise," said Jack suddenly, desperately. "I dunt ever wanna say goodbye."

"Oh, Jack," said Lisa, smiling and touching him on the cheek. "It's okay. I'll see you in school tomorrow, won't I?"

"It feel like a real long time, though," said Jack, smiling sheepishly and raising his hand to touch the one she'd pressed against his face.

"It's only a few hours," said Lisa, half-laughing.

"It feel like forever," murmured Jack in all seriousness.

But before Lisa could think of a response, a hand gripped her by the shoulder. Startled, she turned and saw her mother standing by them, her eyes blazing with fury.

When he saw who was behind him, Jack gave a yelp of terror and bolted away into the night. Lisa watched him helplessly as he turned the corner and disappeared from view, and suddenly hated him for running away.

"So," said her mother dangerously. "This is where you've been all night, is it? In downtown with the street trash. I should have known better than to let you go out."

Lisa said nothing. She stared sullenly down at her feet and waited for her mother to start yelling, as she undoubtedly would. She was proved right.

"How dare you lie to me, Lisa Hartley? How _dare_ you? As if that wasn't bad enough, you're over an hour late home! Do you have _any idea_ how worried I've been? I was about to call the cops!" shrieked her mother.

"Sorry, Mom," said Lisa quietly.

"Sorry is _not good enough_, young lady! You lied to me, you promised me you'd come home when I told you to and you didn't, and you weren't even where you said you'd be! What if there'd been an emergency at home, huh? What if I'd called your friend and she'd told me you weren't there? What would I have done then?"

"Sorry, Mom."

"And how many times have I told you that I don't want you hanging around with those downtown kids? About a hundred times! I do _not_ want my daughter hanging around with people like that! _Especially_ that Jack kid! He's a bad influence!"

"He is _not_," said Lisa indignantly.

"Don't you argue with me, young lady! He's nothing but trouble, and I will not have you spending any more time around him! I don't ever want to see him round here again – if I do, I'm calling the cops, and that's that. No, don't argue with me! If I see him with you once more, you're in big trouble."

"But he's my friend!" protested Lisa.

"Not any more he isn't," said her mother firmly.

"Why do you hate him so much, Mom?" said Lisa, scowling.

"Why? Because he's a rotten little punk, that's why! He's just like all the other downtown kids, fighting and vandalising and stealing cars and mugging old ladies! It's people like him who're ruining our town for everybody!"

"He's never done any of that stuff!" Lisa shouted. "Jack may not be perfect, but he'd never hurt anyone! You know what, Mom? I think you just hate him because he's from downtown and you and Dad are just total snobs!"

"Right! I have had it up to here with you, Lisa!" yelled her mother. "You're grounded for the rest of this week! Now get inside before I make it the rest of this month! And go to bed. You've got school tomorrow!"

Lisa glared at her mother, and stormed inside the house, slamming the front door so hard that it rattled on its hinges.

"Don't slam the door!" shouted her mother as she went inside, but Lisa ignored her, and ran upstairs to her bedroom. Just for form's sake, she slammed her bedroom door as hard as she could, and went to bed.

----------

Jack rounded the corner, and leaned against a wall to catch his breath. His guilt suddenly caught up with him, and he groaned as he realised what he'd done. He'd left Lisa to face her mother on her own, and it was all his fault that she was late home. If he hadn't invited her to the party in the first place…

The thought was still preying on his mind ten minutes later, when he was on his way home. He looked up at Antonio's second-floor apartment as he walked up Hinterland Avenue – the party was still going, he noticed – and his guilt increased still further.

"Jack, you so stupid," he told himself. "Why dint you watch the clock so Lise no be late home? Now she be in big trouble with her mama, an' it be all you fault."

He turned left into a narrow, dimly lit alley and crossed through it into the next street, which was even darker. The bulbs in the streetlights had blown out during a power cut several days ago, and the electric company hadn't got round to replacing them yet, so the street was illuminated solely by the neon signs in the shops. He gave them a glance: Wurlitzer's Quality Books; a Budweiser sign in a café; the "Open Nine Till Five" sign flashing on and off just above the door of Killdeer's Hunting Supplies; the "Rated XXX" sign glowing pinkly in the window of the adult video store. And, finally, he saw the green sign of Raccoon Records, the record store owned by his aunt's landlord.

The shop door was locked, as he'd expected it to be; Mr Ziegler didn't often work late, except when he was doing the accounts. Jack tried the other door, which led straight upstairs to his aunt's apartment, and it too was locked.

Jack swore under his breath. His aunt had locked the door, probably because she was with a client upstairs, and Mr Ziegler wasn't there to let him in until his aunt had finished doing business. All he could do was wait outside in the cold.

Eventually, the door was opened and a furtive-looking man hurried out into the street. Jack rushed inside, and collided with his aunt, who was swathed in a fluffy pink bathrobe.

"Jack Carpenter, where you go all night? It late, you got school Monday!" she scolded him.

"Sorry, Aunt Rosa. I know I be real late. I be at Antonio's party, an' I only just get back," Jack said meekly.

"Antonio, he good boy," said Aunt Rosa firmly. "But you, you no good boy, Jack! You come back late! You bring shame on me! You bring disgrace in my home! You go bed right now, _comprendez_?"

"_Si, comprendez_," sighed Jack, and he followed her upstairs.

----------

Monday 7th September 1998

Lisa sat down on the steps of Raccoon City High School and fumed. The instructions her mother had given her at breakfast were still fresh in her mind – "You're to come straight home after school, right? I want you back in this house by three forty-five. No visitors, no going out. Nothing. You stay in the house. Your father and I will be at work as usual – I would have left you alone, but since you've already proven that you can't be trusted, I've asked Beatrice Wrigley from next door to come in and keep an eye on you until we get back."

Damn it, thought Lisa angrily. _I'm stuck with Beatrice Wrigley, the most annoying woman in the world, until – when? Ten o'clock at night? Eleven o'clock? Eleven-thirty, maybe even midnight? God, I can't bear this …_

Her expression darkened as she saw Jack approaching her.

"Lise?" said Jack hesitantly. "Lise, I - "

"You what?" Lisa snapped.

Jack looked startled; he'd never seen her angry before, and it wasn't a pleasant sight. It reminded him of Lisa's mother, who always seemed to be angry with him no matter what he did.

"Well, I – uh – I just wanna say sorry. 'Bout last night. I didn't mean to get you in trouble with you mama. She real mad with you?" he asked.

"Mad? Mad? She's _furious_!" shouted Lisa, causing several people to look at her in surprise and bewilderment. "I've been grounded for the rest of this week, and if that wasn't bad enough, I've got to spend my time indoors with my neighbour, the most irritating person ever to be issued with a birth certificate!"

"Oh jeez, Lise, I be real sorry," said Jack, his face falling.

"I can't go out, I can't have visitors, my mom and dad will never trust me again, ever, and it's all your fault!" yelled Lisa. "And you didn't even stay to back me up! You just took one look at my mom and ran off scared, you _coward_!"

Jack flinched at this, like a dog expecting to be kicked.

"Lise, I be so sorry," he said in a near-whisper.

"Why did you run away, huh?" she demanded to know. "Why?"

"'Cause Aunt Rosa say if _los_ _verdes_ bring me home one more time, then she gonna send me to military school far from Raccoon City, an' I no gonna come back. That be why," said Jack wretchedly.

Lisa's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"I know it be real bad of me to run away," continued Jack, "An' I be, like, the sorriest guy on the planet. I just get scared. Please dunt hate me, Lise. Please. You be my best friend an' I never mean to hurt you. Please forgive me."

"Oh, Jack, I don't hate you," said Lisa, her anger melting away. "Listen, if anyone should be sorry, it's me. I shouldn't have shouted at you like that. It wasn't even your fault; I should have kept an eye on the time. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Hey, forget it," said Jack, smiling weakly. "I will."

"Okay," said Lisa. "So, are we still friends, or what?"

"Sure we be friends," said Jack. "We always gonna be friends, Lise. No matter what."


	5. The Latest News

****

5: The Latest News

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and so did the day after that. But Wednesday the 9th of September proved far more interesting than Lisa had imagined.

She came down to breakfast in the dining room as usual, and sat opposite her mother. Her father was sitting at the end of the dining room table, reading today's copy of The Raccoon Times, and something in the headline caught Lisa's eye.

"What the - ? she exclaimed and, snatching the newspaper from her father's unresisting hands, began to read.

COUPLE "EATEN ALIVE", SAY RPD

Reported by Donna Rothes

A couple found dead in Raccoon Park were "eaten alive", according to police. Their bodies were discovered in undergrowth yesterday by a man walking his dog. Police and paramedics were immediately called to the scene and the couple were brought straight to Raccoon City General Hospital, but both victims were pronounced dead on arrival.

The bodies were later identified as those of newlyweds Josef and Susan Leidermann (28). It is not known whether they were attacked in the park or whether they were killed elsewhere and their bodies dumped later.

While examining the bodies, a forensic scientist from the Raccoon Police Department discovered several wounds on the necks of the couple, which closely resembled bite-marks. Traces of saliva were also found on their clothing.

"They looked as though they'd been eaten alive," he said.

No other signs of injury were found. DNA tests have so far proved inconclusive, although in a press conference earlier today a spokesman for the RPD revealed that the DNA samples were of human origin.

"We can neither confirm nor deny rumours of cannibalism, but it appears that the couple were bitten in the neck repeatedly until they died, and that saliva found near the wounds has been identified as human DNA, not animal. We advise members of the public to be on their guard while in the area, and to report anything unusual or suspicious to the police."

A local woman reported seeing a tall, dark-haired man of medium build skulking in the area, not long before the bodies were discovered.

"He looked drunk or something," said Beatrice Wrigley (42) to our reporters yesterday. "He was lurching round all over the place. I think he might have some sort of skin disease, too, because he kept scratching himself and groaning the whole time."

Police are still searching for this man, although they refused to say whether he is a possible eyewitness or a key suspect in the case - which is being described by locals as "the cannibal couple case" - and they are urging him to come forward as soon as possible. They have also asked the public to stay alert and to inform them at once if they spot the man in question.

Readers, if you see or think you've seen this man, you should call the police hotline immediately on 555-439-2677 (555-HEY-COPS).

"That's terrible!" exclaimed Lisa. "Who'd do something like that?"

"Who knows?" said her father. "There are a lot of strange people in the world. Are you done with the paper, honey?"

Lisa handed the newspaper back without a word.

"I can't believe Beatrice Wrigley actually saw something," said Lisa's mother, taking a large bite out of a piece of toast. "Do you think that guy's a suspect or a witness?"

"No idea," said Lisa's father. "But I bet Beatrice will be boring Lisa to death with it for hours tonight."

"How long will you and Mom be gone tonight, Dad?" Lisa asked.

"Probably until eleven," her father replied, and Lisa's face fell. "Things have been pretty hectic at work lately, and our new project's been taking up a lot of our time."

"Yes," said Lisa quietly. "It has, hasn't it?"

She finished off her breakfast, and then got to her feet.

"Well, I'd better get to school. Bye Mom, Dad! See you tonight."

"Have a good day, sweetheart," her father called, as Lisa left the house.

----------

At Raccoon City High School the latest news was being discussed out loud and at length, whispered nervously about, spoken of in hushed voices, debated earnestly and furiously. The tale was expanded, enhanced and exaggerated wildly with every telling; it mutated like a virus, and spread like a cancer until it all but engulfed normal conversation. Even people not inclined to gossip were talking about it.

"It's awful," said Lisa. "Really awful. There was a picture of them in the paper, before it happened. They both looked so young, so happy, so _alive_ – and now they're both dead. Gone forever."

"Eaten," said Jack thoughtfully. "Unusual way to go, huh? It ain't pretty either. I just be glad it weren't me."

"Same here," Lisa agreed. "I hope they catch whoever did it. I have a bad feeling that it's going to happen again."

"Yeah," said Jack. "So do I. Hey, me an' the Street Rats get a challenge from the Sk8boarders yesterday – we gonna skate it out, see who be best. You wanna come, or you still grounded?"

"Grounded," said Lisa, with a sigh. "Until the end of the week."

"Too bad," said Jack. "Looks like it gonna be a good one. Well, no matter. Hope you neighbour dunt drive you loco tonight."

"Not much chance of that. She was the one who saw that guy the police are looking for," said Lisa gloomily. "She'll be talking about it all night."

----------

Lisa's assumption proved to be correct: Beatrice spent a large part of the night telling her charge all about the man she saw, down to the very smallest and most insignificant details.

Another thing Lisa noticed was that Beatrice kept eating all the time. Cereal bars, potato chips, chocolate, sandwiches, fruit – anything that she could chew on.

"So this guy just kind of lurches off, swaying this way and that," said Beatrice, taking a very melodramatic bite out of an apple and chewing furiously. "I reckon he did it, you know."

She scratched her shoulder absent-mindedly, and carried on.

"I could tell. He looked suspicious," she continued. "Anyone looking that suspicious usually has something to hide. Some sort of feud or horrible secret, I expect. Maybe Susan was an old girlfriend and he got jealous of her husband."

"Maybe," said Lisa, who was anything but convinced. In any case, she wasn't concerned; she was more interested in watching the local news bulletins on television.

"_Demand for exterminators in Raccoon City has risen sharply in the past few days due to a sudden and increasingly widespread rat problem_," said the newsreader solemnly._ "Local pest control companies are fully booked for the next seventeen days, and - "_

"Oh, yeah, we've got a major rat infestation," said Beatrice suddenly. She tossed her apple core into the wastepaper basket and reached for another apple. "They seem to be everywhere at the moment. Although I didn't know anyone else was having trouble with rats too. You know, I actually got bitten by one yesterday? My husband Rodney had to drive me into the hospital to get me checked out, because rats have, like, rabies or something, don't they? The doctor said I should be okay, I've had the shots, and they cleaned the wound and bandaged it and everything, but he told me to come back if I had any more problems. And - "

On the television, the newsreader was handed a piece of paper, which he read quickly, and he frowned.

"_This just in_," he said. "_Amateur photographer Eric Strattle has just been admitted to Raccoon City General Hospital with severe wounds in the neck and shoulders. He claims to have been attacked by crows while taking photographs for the latest edition of the Raccoon City Guide. Here's our correspondent in Raccoon City, Elspeth Lombard._"

"_Thank you, Bob_," said the correspondent smoothly. "_Well, I'm standing here in the ward of Raccoon City General Hospital, and just behind me is Eric Strattle with his wife Bridget and brother Claude. He claims to have been attacked by a flock of crows just outside Raccoon City Hall. Unlikely though it may seem, the story has been verified by his wife and brother, who were also present, and doctors agree that the wounds correspond to the account. Mr Strattle, would you care to tell our viewers what happened?_"

"_Sure_," said the patient weakly. "_Well, I was outside the city hall with my wife and brother, taking pictures for the new City Guide, when all of a sudden these crows just swoop down out of nowhere and start attacking me! They pecked me all over my neck and shoulders, they wouldn't stop! Claude started shooting at them to try and get them off me, and my wife went to call 911. Then the ambulance arrived, and – well, here I am."_

"_Any comment from you, Mrs Strattle?"_

"_All I can say is it's lucky the ambulance arrived when it did. I don't think he could have taken any more. The doctors were horrified when they brought him in_," said the patient's wife. "_They said he'll be in here for quite some time_."

"_What about the patient's brother? Do you have anything to say, sir_?"

"_I've never seen anything like it. It was like something out of that Hitchcock film, The Birds – they were all over him, pecking and flapping and squawking like mad, I had to shoot some of them to get them off him!" _said the patient's brother.

"_Thank you very much, Mr and Mrs Strattle, and Mr Strattle. I'm sure all our viewers are wishing you a speedy recovery_," said the correspondent. "_Back to you, Bob_."

"_Thank you, Elspeth_," said the newsreader. "_In other news, the President announced today that -_ "

Lisa heard the front door open, and her parents came inside. They were speaking with raised voices, and they seemed to be arguing about something.

"… What are we going to do about it? If this gets out - "

"And what if it doesn't? They said they'll have it under control by tomorrow."

"I don't think they will, somehow."

"Oh ye of little faith! Listen, they'll sort it out. Really. They're good at stuff like this. Remember what happened in LA?"

"No. What happened?"

"Exactly. They fixed the problem. Everything will be fine."

"I'd feel happier getting out of town, Jonathan."

"Well, we can't go now. We've got orders, remember?"

"You're right. We can't go. But I still want to."

"For the last time, Elizabeth, there is _no _- "

The argument stopped instantly as Lisa went into the hall.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," she said, hugging them both. "How was work?"

"Lousy," her mother snapped, pushing her away and heading towards the kitchen. "You want something to eat, Jon?"

"Good idea," Lisa's father called, and he followed his wife, leaving Lisa standing alone in the hall, feeling unwanted and unloved. Even though her parents weren't the most affectionate people in the world, they'd never pushed her away before.

Biting her lip, Lisa went upstairs and shut herself in her bedroom. She was vaguely aware of voices below – her mother's and Beatrice's voices, and then the slam of the front door – but she didn't care.

It was at times like these that she thought of Jack, who cared so much and was always there for her when she needed him.

"Wish you were here, Jack," she murmured to herself. "I miss you."


	6. The Omen

****

6: The Omen

****

Thursday 10th September 1998

It was late afternoon, and Jack sat on the sidewalk outside Marco and Antonio's apartment, watching the other Street Rats skate in the fading sunshine. It had been a nice day, he thought - uneventful, yes, but pleasant enough.

As he watched Tiffany and Almond trying to see who could grind furthest along the edge of the sidewalk, he shivered and rubbed his bare arms as the temperature around him dropped sharply.

"Hey, you guys? You be cold, or it just me?" Jack called.

"Cold?" laughed Almond. "What're you on about, Jack? It's lovely an' warm out here! I think it's just you. Go in an' get a jacket or somethin', yeah?"

"No," said Jack slowly. "No, it ain't that cold. I dunt need a jacket."

"Suit yourself," said Almond, shrugging, and carried on skating.

"Weird," said Jack to himself. He wondered briefly if he had just imagined being cold, because the sensation had vanished and he felt warm again. Perhaps he was just tired.

Jack glanced at his watch – it was 6.55 – and looked back up again so he could carry on watching his friends. It was then that he noticed the other skater, standing behind the others and watching Jack silently.

Jack knew most of the skaters in Raccoon City by now, but he had never seen this one before. The skater was tall, thin and dark-haired, older than Jack and his friends, with a gaunt, pale face and a gloomy expression. His clothes were all black – black T-shirt, black cargo pants, black sneakers – and the skateboard that he carried under his arm was also black, save for a white skull and crossbones painted on the underside.

The skater put his skateboard on the ground, and rode away down the street; just as he got to the corner of the street, he vanished. Jack stared, unable to believe his eyes. Surely he hadn't just disappeared into thin air?

"Who be that?" he asked, as Raphael came over to sit beside him.

"What?" said Raphael. "Who was who?"

"That skater," said Jack. "He be standin' right over there, watchin' me, then he ride down the street an' away. I never see him b'fore. Who he be?"

"I didn't see anyone," said Raphael. "What'd he look like, bro?"

"Tall, thin, black hair, kind of gloomy-lookin'. Bit older'n us. He be wearin' all black clothes an' he ride a black skateboard with a skull on it," said Jack.

As one, the Street Rats stopped dead, and they turned to look at Jack with looks of horror on their faces.

"What did you say?" said Mitch sharply.

"I just say I see this skater guy all in black," said Jack. "Why?"

"Bloody hell," said Maddy quietly.

"What?" said Jack, perplexed. "What I say?"

"It's the Dark Skater," said Batman hoarsely.

"The hell you talkin' 'bout, Batman?" said Jack, frowning.

"You've never heard of the Dark Skater?" said Eduardo.

"No, I ain't never heard of no dark skater guy," said Jack irritably. "So who the hell he be?"

The other Street Rats glanced worriedly at each other. Finally, Alena spoke.

"You sure you wanna know, Jack?" she said.

"Yeah," said Jack.

"Okay," said Alena, looking a little uncertain. "Well, you've heard of the PriMadonnas, haven't you?"

"Sure," said Jack. "I know 'em. Best gang of skaters ever, right?"

"Uh-huh," she agreed. "Anyway, ten years ago they had this amazin' skater guy, like the best one in the whole of Raccoon City. No-one had ever seen anyone like him before. His name was Dmitri Marovski, an' he was from some little village in Russia that no-one had heard of. Always wore black, so people called him the Dark Skater. Everyone thought he was gonna be the next Tony Hawk or somethin'."

"An' then the gang wars started," put in Roland. "Another gang called Underworld started pickin' a fight with the PriMadonnas, an' unfortunately our friend Dmitri Marovski got caught in the middle. Shot five times in the head an' chest. Needless to say, he died pretty much instantly."

"An' he died in this very street," added Valerio. "Right over there by that fire hydrant."

He pointed to a fire hydrant on the corner of the street, right next to the spot where Jack had seen the mysterious skater disappear. Jack suddenly felt as if an icy hand was gripping his heart and squeezing it tightly.

"People say," said Marco, trying not to look at Jack, "That whenever someone sees the ghost of Dmitri Marovski, somethin' terrible will happen to 'em. Last time someone saw the Dark Skater, they got run over by an ice-cream truck a few days later. That was about two years ago, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Almond. "Wasn't it that kid with the red hair who used to live opposite you, Ritchie?"

"No, he an' his folks moved to Delaware," said Ritchie. "You're thinkin' of the kid with brown hair who lived next door to Mitch. Right, Mitch?"

"Yeah," said Mitch. "Real shame. I used to play with him when we were kids."

"So what gonna happen to me?" said Jack, trying not to sound nervous.

"_Ça_ _dépend_. We are not knowing exactly," said Columbine. "It may be nothing."

"Alternatively, you might wanna stay away from ice-cream trucks for a couple of weeks," said Valerio, grinning.

There was some nervous laughter, but the mood was still apprehensive and Jack was uncomfortably aware that no-one seemed to want to look directly at him.

"It be gettin' late now," said Jack quickly. "I better get home b'fore my aunt start worryin' 'bout me. Bye, guys. See you _mañana_."

"Bye, Jack. Watch out for ice-cream trucks!" laughed Valerio.

"Asshole," said Jack under his breath, as he left.


	7. Newspapers

****

7: Newspapers

Friday 11th September 1998

When Lisa arrived at Raccoon City High School, she was just a little surprised to see Jack already sitting on the steps, watching every newcomer intently as if he was looking out for somebody. "Somebody" turned out to be her.

"Hey, Lise," he said, as she approached. "I gotta talk to you."

"Yes? What is it, Jack?" said Lisa.

"Listen, I see somethin' real weird in downtown last night," said Jack.

"What did you see?" said Lisa, sitting down next to him.

"The ghost of some dead skater guy all in black. Now my _amigos_ say somethin' real bad gonna happen real soon," said Jack gloomily.

"Really? Like what?" said Lisa.

"Well, the last time someone see the ghost of that guy, they get hit by an ice-cream truck. I dunt think I gonna die, Lise, but I get the feelin' somethin' awful gonna happen. I mean, there be all this stuff 'bout that murder case an' the guy who get hurt by crows, an' there be all these weirdos that be hangin' round lately. I dunt know what be goin' on in this town, but somethin' ain't right."

Lisa nodded; she agreed wholeheartedly with him.

"You believe in stuff like this, Lise?" Jack asked her.

"I don't know," said Lisa. "I've never really thought about it before. Why, are you scared?"

"No. I ain't scared," said Jack. "Just worried."

"Well, I'm not sure what to say to you, Jack," said Lisa, frowning slightly. "If I decide I believe in curses and say "Oh no! The Skater Guy of Doom! You're going to die!", I mean, I'm going to worry myself sick about you _and_ scare you half to death. But if I smile and say "No such thing as death omens", then you'll cross the road and the last thing you see will be a Mister Softee van approaching at great speed."

Jack grinned despite himself.

"All I can suggest is be careful when you cross the road, and don't go down any dark alleys," said Lisa, patting him on the shoulder.

As she touched him, Jack shivered a little. He didn't know how he could feel as if he was burning and freezing at the same time, but that was what she did to him. She confused him in the nicest possible way. He felt like blurting out everything, confessing his undying love and begging her to run away with him. Never before had he wanted something as badly as this.

Lisa also noticed the way he shivered at her touch. What did she feel? Pity? Regret? Longing? Desire, even? No, no, this was crazy. What on earth was she thinking? She couldn't … her parents would go nuts. And he was her _friend_, for crying out loud. Kissing her best friend would be – well, weird.

A tap on the shoulder startled Lisa out of her reverie, and she looked up at a group of her uptown friends – Leonie Brown, Sarah Lee-Robertson, Mary Perceval, Luanne Wade and her official best friend, Julie Wilberforce.

"Hey, Lisa! Ditch the downtown puppy and come and see this!" said Sarah, giving Jack a scornful glance.

Jack flushed, and looked away quickly. Lisa saw the wounded look on his face, though, and felt awful. Torn between sticking up for her best friend and trying to fit in with everyone else, she didn't know what to do. Even a compromise was impossible.

"What is it?" she said at last.

"Come over and see for yourself," said Mary.

"Fine," said Lisa, a little more sharply than she'd intended, and the other girls drifted away. She turned back to Jack.

"Jack, just ignore them," she told him. "They don't know you like I do. I know you're a lovely guy, even if they don't. Keep your chin up, okay? I'll be back in a minute."

Jack nodded. Still feeling guilty for leaving him, Lisa got up and went over to talk to the girls.

"Ah, Lisa! You managed to get away from your devoted doggy," said Julie.

"Don't call him that!" snapped Lisa. "He's my friend. Not a _pet_."

"Whatever," said Julie, shrugging. "Anyway, take a look at this!"

She thrust a magazine at Lisa; in the middle of an article was a photograph of Matt Black, the latest teen heartthrob. Lisa regarded it without any real interest.

"Isn't he just the _cutest_?" sighed Leonie.

"I've seen cuter," said Lisa dismissively, and handed the magazine back.

"No _way_," said Sarah. "No-one's cuter than Matt Black."

"Although that faithful follower of yours is pretty cute himself," said Luanne, grinning wickedly. "Any chance of a date with him?"

"You keep your damn hands off him, Luanne," said Lisa shortly. "He's already in love with someone else. Besides, the way you girls treat him makes me want to puke. You don't deserve a nice guy like him."

"Oooh!" the girls chorused. "Sounds like Lisa's pretty fond of the downtown puppy herself! What are you waiting for, honey? Go fetch! He'll come running faster than you can say "Heel!""

The bell rang for the start of school. Furious, Lisa turned away from them and headed back towards Jack. But Jack was already heading towards the door. He looked upset.

"Damn them all to hell," snarled Lisa, and hurried after him.

----------

However, she didn't find him. Somewhere in between going through the door and stepping into the crowded corridor, Jack seemed to have disappeared into thin air. He didn't turn up for class, was nowhere to be seen at lunch, and still hadn't materialised at the end of the day.

As Lisa walked home, she wondered where he was. Was he all right? She silently cursed the girls for their needless cruelty. Why did they have to be so mean to him?

Lisa had just passed the boutique where her mother bought all her clothes when she happened to glance at a vending machine for the local newspaper. She stared at the headlines for a moment, then she fished in her pocket for a quarter and bought a copy of The Raccoon Times.

When Lisa got home, she found Beatrice Wrigley standing in the hallway. Her arms were folded and she didn't look at all happy.

"Where have you been?" she demanded to know. "You're late home."

"Sorry, Mrs Wrigley," said Lisa, taken aback. "I only stopped to buy a paper."

"Your dad already bought it this morning," Beatrice said brusquely. "It's on the kitchen table."

"Oh," said Lisa, surprised. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah, right. So where were you? Were you with that downtown kid?"

"No, actually, I wasn't," retorted Lisa. "I haven't seen Jack since the start of class. Look, I didn't know my dad bought the paper already. If I'd known, I wouldn't have wasted my money, would I?"

"Well, where else were you, then? It doesn't take twenty minutes to buy a newspaper," snapped Beatrice.

"It does when the vending machine keeps spitting the quarter back out," said Lisa, annoyed. "It's not my fault it wouldn't take any coin minted since Eisenhower was President."

"All right. Now tell the truth. Where were you?"

"I already _told_ you," said Lisa, struggling to control her temper. "I left school and I decided to buy a newspaper on the way home!"

"Where were you? Tell me or I'll tell your mom!"

"Am I speaking Swahili or something? "What part of "I only bought a newspaper" don't you understand? Listen, I was _not_ with Jack! I don't even know where he is, I haven't seen him since this morning!"

"I don't believe you."

"Well that's your problem!" said Lisa, finally snapping. "You can believe what you want, Mrs Wrigley, but I'm telling you the truth, so stop interrogating me!"

Beatrice opened her mouth to say something, then she gave a little cry and her knees gave way. A startled Lisa caught her just in time.

"What's wrong, Mrs Wrigley?" Lisa asked her. "Are you okay? Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No," said Beatrice faintly. "I'm all right."

"Are you sure? You don't look so good," said Lisa, noticing how pale and tired her neighbour looked.

"I'm all right," Beatrice insisted, struggling to her feet. "Really. I've been feeling a bit rundown lately. Out of sorts. I've snapped at everyone today. Sorry I shouted at you."

"That's okay," said Lisa. "Can I get you anything?"

"Something to eat and drink would be nice," said Beatrice, as Lisa led her to a chair in the next room, and she sat down. "I've been really hungry and thirsty these past few days; it doesn't matter how much I eat or drink, I'm still not satisfied. Do you think I caught something when that rat bit me? My whole arm has been itching like crazy – elbow, shoulder, wrist, all over, and the finger it bit is the worst of all, I just can't stop scratching it!"

"Maybe," said Lisa. "Shall I call my mom and dad and tell them you're ill? You really don't look well, Mrs Wrigley. I think you should go home and rest."

"Okay," said Beatrice.

Lisa went back into the hall, picked up the phone and dialled her parents' work number.

"Good afternoon, this is the Raccoon City branch of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Incorporated. How may I help you?" said a woman.

"Uh, hi, I'd like to speak to Dr Elizabeth Hartley, please," said Lisa.

"I'm sorry, she's busy at the moment," said the woman. "Would you like to leave a message?"

"No, that's okay," said Lisa. "Could I speak to Dr Jonathan Hartley instead?"

"Who's calling, please?"

"I'm his daughter, Lisa. Is he there? It's pretty important," said Lisa.

"I'll put you through now," said the woman.

Lisa heard a beep as the call was put through, and she waited. After several rings, her father answered the phone.

"Ah, Dr Hazlitt. I was waiting for you to call. The L-Project is – "

"Dad? It's me, Lisa," said Lisa.

"Hi, honey," said her father quickly. "Listen, is this important? Only I'm pretty busy right now, I'm expecting a call, and – "

"Dad, it's Mrs Wrigley. She's not feeling too good, and I thought I'd better let you know," said Lisa.

"What's wrong?" her father asked.

"She says she's been feeling rundown lately, and she's hungry and thirsty all the time, and her arm's itching. She looks all pale and tired and she's been pretty cranky, too," she told him.

Lisa heard her father inhale sharply.

"Dad, what is it?" she asked, and it was a while before he answered.

"Nothing," he said at last. "Nothing. Tell Beatrice to stay where she is. We'll be right over, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Dad," said Lisa, and put the phone down.

Ten minutes later, Lisa's mother and father arrived. Her father hurried into the next room to see Beatrice, and her mother waited outside in the hall.

"Hi, Mom," said Lisa. "Sorry to call you out from work."

"No, that's okay. This is more important," said her mother. "Thanks for letting us know. _You're_ feeling all right, aren't you?" she added.

Lisa nodded.

"No tiredness? No itching? No nausea?"

"No, Mom. I feel fine," said Lisa, slightly puzzled. "Why?"

"Just checking. But if you feel ill, tell me right away, okay?" said her mother.

"Sure," said Lisa.

"Good girl," said her mother, smiling a little bit.

It was the first time Lisa had seen her mother smile in days; more to the point, it was the first time in days that her mother had shown more than a passing interest in her welfare.

Her father came into the hall, looking grim.

"Infected," he said shortly. "I suspected as much."

"We need to get her to the hospital," said her mother. "The old one near St Michael's Clock Tower. It's more private and better equipped, and they can treat her right away. Besides, Raccoon City General Hospital has enough on its hands already with the new patients."

"I agree. Come on, I'll carry her out to the car. Liz, you contact Rodney and let him know what's happened. Lisa, we're going to have to leave you here. Will you be okay on your own for a while?" asked her father.

"Yes, I'll be fine," said Lisa. "I'll catch up on my reading."

When her parents and Beatrice had gone, Lisa looked around. She didn't mind being on her own – in fact, she quite liked having the house to herself.

Lisa found the newspaper that she'd bought, and settled down at the kitchen table to read it.

CANNIBAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN

Reported by Donna Rothes

Just two days after the gruesome discovery of murdered couple Josef and Susan Leidermann in Raccoon Park comes a further distressing incident which Raccoon City police believe to be related – the murder of twin girls Hilary and Jessica Ratchet, aged nine.

The girls were last seen alive walking home from Raccoon City Elementary School on Thursday afternoon. When by dusk the twins had still not returned home, their concerned parents called the police, who began a citywide search for the twins. Sadly, their spirited efforts came too late for Hilary and Jessica, who were both found dead in an alley near Raccoon City Hall.

"This is a terrible tragedy," said Raccoon City Mayor Michael Warren this morning. "Our hearts go out to the family of these poor, innocent children, and our police officers have vowed to catch the person responsible for this monstrous crime. Whoever has done this will be brought to justice."

Unsurprisingly the girls' parents, Judith and Mark Ratchet, were too distressed to comment on their daughters' deaths.

The causes of death were loss of blood and the massive injuries sustained by both children. Saliva samples and marks corresponding to human tooth-marks were found on the girls' necks and torsos, and police suspect that whoever killed the Leidermanns is also responsible for this horrific crime.

"It looks as if we may be dealing with cannibalism," commented a member of the Raccoon Police Department. "Something took some pretty big bites out of these poor kids, and it wasn't an animal, that's for sure. These were human bite marks."

Locals have already begun referring to the Leidermann and Ratchet murder cases as "the Hannibal Lecter murders", and they may not be far from the truth, although the STARS unit's reports of cannibal monsters in Raccoon Forest have twice been dismissed as untrue by the Chief of Police.

The RPD reminds the public to be on their guard and to report anything that seems suspicious, since even the smallest piece of evidence might provide an important lead. We can only hope that they succeed in finding the cannibal killer before he – or she – strikes again.

----------

Meanwhile, in an apartment in downtown Raccoon City, Jack was reading the same article. Marco's words kept running through his head:

Whenever someone sees the ghost of Dmitri Marovski, somethin' terrible will happen to 'em…

Something like this, perhaps? Would he, too, fall victim to the cannibal murderer on his way home from school?

Jack tried to convince himself that there really was no such thing as curses, or ghosts for that matter, but failed miserably. If there was no such thing as ghosts, then why had he seen the shade of the Dark Skater? There was no doubting that he'd seen it. And if there was such a thing as ghosts, then any associated curses probably existed too. That meant he was in trouble.

"Auntie," he said, as his aunt drifted by, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

She looked blank. Jack sighed, and repeated the question in Spanish.

"_Yes_," she replied, "_I believe in ghosts._"

"_What about curses?_" asked Jack.

His aunt shook her head.

"_No, I don't believe in curses,"_ she said._ "Why? You still thinking about that junk Marco told you about that poor soul's ghost being a death omen?_"

Jack nodded.

"_Don't you worry about that, Jack,_" she told him._ "There's no such thing as curses. He's probably just winding you up. So forget about it. You're fine. Okay?_"

She ruffled his hair affectionately; he grinned, and ducked away, then hugged her tightly.

"_Thanks, Aunt Rosa_," he said gratefully. "_I feel a lot better now_."

"_That's good_," said Aunt Rosa, smiling. "_Now throw that paper in the trash right now and stop scaring yourself, you hear_?"

Jack picked up the newspaper, rolled it up and threw it straight into the wastepaper basket. His aunt nodded her approval, and Jack felt his spirits lift. Somehow his aunt always made him feel better when he was worried; she always knew exactly what to say to dispel his fears. In a way she reminded him of his mother before he found her lying on the floor one morning, pale and cold and stiff, sleeping the sleep that nobody ever wakes up from. And while Aunt Rosa could never truly replace his mother, she was the closest he had. In fact, she was all he had. Mother dead, father in prison, no brothers or sisters or grandparents – just Aunt Rosa, who did her best.

"_Auntie?_" he said.

"_Yes?_" she replied.

"_I'm glad I've got you._"

Aunt Rosa laughed, and kissed him on the cheek.

"_You're a good boy, Jack,_" she told him. "_I'm glad you're my nephew_."

And for a while, things didn't seem quite so bad.


	8. The Mystery Virus

****

8: The Mystery Virus

Sunday 13th September 1998

Lisa woke up to the sound of an argument, conducted at full volume. She sighed, and turned over, pulling the duvet and one of her pillows over her head. Her parents had been arguing almost constantly for the past two days – ever since Beatrice Wrigley had been hospitalised with a mysterious illness.

They'd been to see her yesterday; Beatrice looked even worse now, thin-faced and white as the sheets on her hospital bed. There had been dark rings around her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in months, and she hadn't spoken very much. When she did speak, it was in short, sharp sentences, and mostly about how hungry she was. And she'd scratched her arm the whole time, scratch scratch scratch, so that by the end of visiting time her forearm was red raw and beginning to bleed. The whole experience had deeply disturbed Lisa, and despite her sympathy for Beatrice she'd been glad to leave.

Downstairs, her mother shouted something about "the L-Project" and "the plan", and her father shouted back something that was incomprehensible through the thickness of the floorboards.

"Oh, shut _up_," groaned Lisa, and pulled the other pillow over her head to muffle the noise.

This didn't work, either. In desperation, Lisa switched on her alarm clock radio and stumbled out of bed, cursing, to find the remote control for her television. She switched on the television, and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.

"Phew," she sighed. The noise of the television and radio combined just managed to drown out whatever her parents were yelling about.

After a few minutes, though, the din was getting almost as bad as the argument had been, so Lisa switched off the radio. She sat on the end of the bed and watched the television without really seeing what was on the screen.

Lisa could just about make out her father bellowing at her to turn the volume down, but she ignored him.

"You guys quit screaming at each other, and I'll turn the TV down," she muttered.

It was some time before the shouting died away. Lisa sighed with relief, and turned down the volume to a reasonable level. The credits were rolling on a mindless game show, and soon the picture was replaced by the local news.

"_Good morning, Raccoon City! I'm Laurence Raglan, and you're watching the 9 o'clock news_," the newsreader announced. "_A mysterious new disease has claimed the life of a local woman. Beatrice Wrigley, aged 42, was being treated at the old Raccoon Hospital for an infected wound when she abruptly succumbed to the illness. She was bitten by a rat five days ago and immediately admitted to Raccoon City General Hospital for treatment. She was later discharged and sent home. Two days later Mrs Wrigley was readmitted after complaining of headaches, nausea, vomiting, the compulsive desire to eat and drink, and chronic itching. Her symptoms worsened yesterday, and doctors noticed a degree of mental degeneration, with the patient seeming confused and unaware of her surroundings. Despite doctors' best efforts to treat her, Mrs Wrigley slipped into a coma and died last night. She leaves a husband, Rodney, and no children._

An autopsy revealed the presence of an unknown virus in the patient's bloodstream, and doctors are unable to say whether it is treatable. Medication previously administered had no visible effect, and it is feared that the virus may be both fatal and incurable.

Six more patients were later admitted to Raccoon City General Hospital with the same illness, and their condition has been described as critical. Anyone suffering from these symptoms should call 911 and seek immediate medical treatment."

Lisa stared at the screen, unable to believe what she'd just seen. Beatrice Wrigley was dead? But just a few days before she had seemed perfectly healthy! How could this have happened?

Lisa switched off the television and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

"Mom, Dad, it said on the news that Mrs Wrigley's dead!" she exclaimed.

Her mother, who was in the middle of making coffee, looked up sharply.

"What?" she gasped. "She's – she's dead? When?"

"Last night," said Lisa.

"It's on the news?" said Lisa's father, frowning. "Honey, we'd better get to work right away."

"Work? It's _Sunday_!" said Lisa indignantly. "The only day I ever get to see my brilliant hardworking scientist parents who're too busy to talk to me during the week, and now you've got to go into work today too? Call them and tell them to go to hell! Today's _our_ day, you know that! You can't go into work!"

"Sorry, honey, we've got to," said her mother, pushing the coffee cups aside and grabbing her coat from one of the coat-pegs on the wall.

"But Mom - " Lisa protested.

"But nothing, Lisa. This is really important," said her mother, pulling on her coat. "Honey, where are the car keys?"

"Right here," said Lisa's father, handing them to his wife.

"Please, don't go!" Lisa begged, grabbing her father's hand. "Come on, Dad, forget work just for one day, huh? Stay here and keep me company! I hardly ever see you guys any more!"

"Lisa, we have to go," said her father, annoyed, and snatched his hand away. "I'd love to stay, but this is _important_."

"Yes, it's important. It always is, isn't it? Work's always more important than me," said Lisa bitterly. "It's never the other way around."

"There's no need for that," said her father crossly.

"Yes there is!" Lisa burst out. "I'm stuck in this house all on my own, with nobody to talk to, and you'll be back – when?"

"Eleven, I hope," said her mother. "But maybe not until tomorrow morning."

"You're kidding, right?" said Lisa incredulously. "Tomorrow morning?"

"If it comes to that, yes," her mother replied. "I'm sorry, Lisa, but we have to do something about this. It's the only way – we have to get to the labs and continue our research, or we're in big trouble. The work might take until late tonight or even until tomorrow morning. But I promise we'll be back before six-thirty tomorrow."

"That _sucks_," said Lisa sulkily.

"I know," sighed her mother. "But that's the way it is. See you later, Lisa."

"Yes," said Lisa, scowling. "Much, much, much later."

Her mother ignored this last comment, and kissed her daughter on the cheek.

"Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, Mom. See you whenever."

"Come on, Liz, we're going to be late!" Lisa's father called from the doorway.

"All right, I'm coming," Lisa's mother sighed.

With that, her parents left the house. Lisa ran after them, and flung open the front door.

"Am I still grounded?" Lisa called after them, but they didn't hear her; they got into the car and drove away.

"I'll take that as a "no" then, huh?" said Lisa to herself.

----------

Lisa was already halfway to downtown Raccoon City when she realised she didn't have the faintest idea where Jack might be today. He could be at home, or at Marco's apartment, or in church – did he go to church? – or at the local skate park, or somewhere else entirely.

She decided to start at Marco's, since she was only half a block away from Wells and Hinterland. Antonio answered the door, with a girlfriend in tow, and told Lisa that Jack wasn't there.

Next Lisa tried Jack's apartment. His aunt answered the door, and after several minutes of not being understood, Lisa finally managed to get an answer – namely, that Jack wasn't there, that his aunt didn't know where he was, and that she didn't know when he'd be back. Lisa thanked her, and left.

"Where could he be?" Lisa wondered aloud as she crossed the street. "Hmm. I wonder if he's at the skate park?"

She was halfway across when a taxi roared into view, swerving wildly as it tore up the street. It was heading straight for her, at least twice as fast as it should have been travelling, and there was no squeal of brakes, or even the frantic beep of a horn – it suddenly struck Lisa that whoever was driving had no intention of stopping any time soon.

It's going to hit you! Move! screamed Lisa's brain, but her body was rooted to the spot with terror. She couldn't move at all.

I'm going to die, she thought. _It's going to hit me, and I'm going to die…_

But then she felt someone grab her around the waist and pull her out of harm's way, just in time – through her confusion Lisa was vaguely aware of someone swearing furiously, and the taxi screeching to a halt.

"You coulda killed her, _estupido_! The hell you doin', drivin' so fast anyway?" shouted her rescuer.

The taxi driver stared blankly at the person who'd saved Lisa from certain death, and scratched his neck.

"Itchy. Go hospital," said the driver in a peculiar monotone.

"Yeah, you go hospital," said Lisa's rescuer savagely. "The one that put patients in white canvas jackets! Idiot! If I no be here, Lise be goin' to hospital too!"

"Go hospital?" said the driver slowly. "Yes. Itchy. Hungry. Go now."

The taxi zoomed off again in a cloud of exhaust fumes, and Lisa looked up to see who had saved her – it was Jack. He was panting hard from his sudden exertion, and he glared at the departing taxi as if it had just insulted his mother.

"Jack?" said Lisa.

He looked down, and his expression softened.

"Hey," he said gently, kneeling next to her on the sidewalk. "You okay, Lise? Hell, you scare me half to death!"

"Sorry," said Lisa. "He just came out of nowhere. I really thought he was going to hit me. Thanks, Jack. You saved my life."

"Dunt scare me like that 'gain, right?" said Jack, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Man, you nearly give me a heart attack. Be more careful, Lise! We got some loco taxi drivers in downtown, they drive like lunatics. You gotta watch youself round here."

"Point taken," said Lisa. "Now let's get out of here."

"Where we goin'?" Jack asked her.

"I was looking for you, actually," said Lisa, smiling.

"Well, you find me," laughed Jack. "But I thought you still be grounded?"

"Technically I am," said Lisa. "But my parents are at work all day and my babysitter's dead. It was on the news this morning, did you hear about it?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "The mystery virus. Real weird, huh. Hey, that taxi driver guy say he be itchy an' hungry, like they say on the news! You reckon he got the virus too?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," said Lisa. "Come on, Jack, let's go to the skate park or something."

"Sure," said Jack good-naturedly. "Hey, Batman show me a new trick yesterday! You wanna see it?"

"You bet!" said Lisa. "Lead the way, Jack."

They turned the corner and headed in the direction of Raccoon City Skate Park – keeping an eye out for taxi drivers.


	9. Birthday Plans

****

9: Birthday Plans

Monday 14th September 1998

No sooner had Lisa walked in through the school gates than Julie appeared, with a bright smile and a pen and notebook at the ready.

"So, what are we going to do for your birthday, Lisa?" said Julie.

"We?" said Lisa, a little stunned. "Well, uh, I was thinking about just having a quiet birthday, you know? Me and my parents."

"Don't be silly," said Julie briskly. "Everyone has proper birthday parties when they turn sixteen, don't they? Now, who are we going to invite?"

Lisa opened her mouth to protest.

"But I don't want - "

"Of course you do," Julie interrupted. "So, I'm coming, right? That means we'll have to invite Mary and Leonie and Sarah and Luanne. Oh, Milly Truman too, of course. I know she only started here this year, but we can't leave her out, can we? And we can invite Tyrone Hayes as well, and Mike Dennis, and – yes, Justin Thomas, he's cool – and Phil Barrett, he's _so_ cute."

"But Julie - " Lisa protested; again, to no avail. There was no stopping Julie when she was in this kind of mood. So Lisa resigned herself to her fate and joined in with the planning for a party she didn't particularly want to have.

"Oh, all right," she sighed. "In that case, we'd better invite Jamie Cooper too. Phil won't come without him; I swear they're joined at the hip or something. How about Alex Denny?"

"Good idea," Julie agreed.

"Paul Armstrong as well?"

"Mmm-hmm. So, that's Mary, Leonie, Sarah, Luanne, Milly, Tyrone, Mike, Justin, Phil, Jamie, Alex and Paul – and you and me, obviously. That makes fourteen. Big enough, do you think?"

"I want to invite Jack Carpenter too," Lisa added.

"Him?" Julie looked disgusted. "Why? What do you want to invite him for?"

"Because he's my _friend_, that's why," said Lisa. "No Jack – no party."

"Oh, fine," grumbled Julie. "But don't blame me if he ruins everything. He can come if you really want him to, although _why_ you want him there anyway is completely beyond my understanding."

It was with some difficulty that Lisa bit back her intended reply.

"O-kay," said Julie, scribbling notes. "And this'll be at your house, right?"

"Right. In the back yard? Easy to clear up. And it's got to be during the day – my parents usually get home at eleven, so night-time's no good," said Lisa. "About midday, say?"

"Great," said Julie, writing the time and location down in her notebook. "So if you can write the invitations, I'll sort out all the food and drink and stuff. Okay, it's a date! I'll go tell the girls."

----------

"Australia alone has over a hundred species of marsupials…" droned Mrs Bietelbaum.

How come we gotta have Beetle this year too? thought Jack. He didn't particularly like Mrs Bietelbaum; she was always ignoring him or, worse, criticising him in front of the whole class. If only he could have gone to St Michael's Catholic High School like his fellow Street Rats – but his aunt had said that she couldn't afford the fees. Of course, neither could his friends' parents, but they still managed to scrape the money together somehow.

Although there was one upside to being in Raccoon City High School, and that was sitting next to Lisa every day. Jack had to admit that this was very nice indeed.

When Mrs Bietelbaum's back was turned, Lisa leaned over to his desk and slipped a crumpled scrap of paper into Jack's hand.

"RSVP," she hissed.

Jack unfolded the paper, taking care not to let Mrs Bietelbaum see what he was doing, and read the message. In Lisa's neat, graceful handwriting were the words:

Birthday party at my house - Sept 28th. _Interested?_

Jack's heart sank as he saw what Lisa had written. Yes, he was interested – going to her birthday party would be great – but she would almost certainly have invited everyone else in the class, and he felt uncomfortable around them to say the very least. They hated him, and he wasn't overly fond of them either.

Sorry, Lise, he wrote back_, but I no can go to you party. You uptown friends hate me like they want me dead. But what say I go buy you a real nice present an' give it to you later? That be okay?_

Jack returned the note. He saw Lisa's face fall as she read it, and he felt like he'd just been stabbed in the heart.

"Sorry," he mouthed.

Lisa smiled weakly, and mouthed something back.

"What?" Jack whispered.

Just in front of him, Julie rolled her eyes.

"You know, downtown boy, you might actually _learn_ something if you paid attention instead of talking and passing notes to your girlfriend," she said loudly.

The entire class – Mrs Bietelbaum included – turned to stare at Jack. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, silently willing everyone to stop staring at him.

"Jack Carpenter," said Mrs Bietelbaum frostily. "Your grades are good, considering you come from downtown, but they're not so good that you can afford to ignore what I'm saying! Maybe a short spell of after-school detention might improve your attention span a little. Report here at the end of the day."

The rest of the class tittered. Face hot with embarrassment, Jack looked down at the desk and silently begged the floor to open up and swallow him without trace.

Mrs Bietelbaum opened her mouth again, possibly to continue berating Jack, but whatever she was about to say was soon lost in the noise of the bell – it was time for lunch. Frowning, she dismissed the class and left the room.

The tenth-graders eagerly packed their bags and rushed out of the door en masse. Jack was the only exception – he lingered behind, not wanting to leave at the same time as the others. He knew they'd make fun of him, as usual. He could almost hear the taunts now:

"Hey, smart aleck! Not smart enough to keep out of trouble, are you?"

"Grades so good you don't need to listen, huh?"

"Stupid downtown trash."

"Go back to Mexico, Mexico boy!"

"And tell your aunt to get a decent job 'stead of being a whore!"

Fighting back tears, Jack ran out of the room and passed Lisa without even seeing her. She, however, saw him all too clearly. More to the point, she saw the look on his face.

"Jack," Lisa called after him, but he didn't hear her.

Julie passed her in the other direction, laughing and joking about something with the other tenth-grade girls.

"Did you see his _face_? The idiot…" said Julie, and the others giggled.

"You bitch," muttered Lisa.

Under normal circumstances she would have left it at that, but something inside her rebelled. Boiling hot rage took over Lisa's brain and gave the rest of her body new instructions – so Lisa unexpectedly found herself rotating through 180 degrees, chasing after Julie and grabbing her by the shoulder.

"What did you do that for, huh?" said Lisa fiercely, as Julie turned around. "That was _cruel_! He's never done a thing to you, and then you throw that at him! Why? Because he's from _downtown_? Because he can't afford to strut around in Armani jeans like the other guys? Or is it because you just can't accept that different doesn't always mean wrong?"

"Sor-_ry_. Jeez. If I'd known you fancied the cargo pants off him then I wouldn't have said anything," said Julie disdainfully. "Although I must admit I'm surprised by your choice. I always thought you had better taste than that, Lisa."

"You - " As the rage relinquished control of her body, Lisa suddenly found herself at a loss for words. "You are just _unbelievable_!"

She stormed off. Julie shrugged, and turned back to the rest of her group.

"What's _her_ problem?" she said to them. The other girls just shook their heads.


	10. Zombies?

****

10: Zombies?

Tuesday 15th September 1998

"Take a look at _this_," said Almond, brandishing a copy of The Raccoon Times.

Marco snatched it, and began reading aloud to the rest of the Street Rats as they walked along Main Street.

"It has been suggested by members of the public that the growin' number of suspicious-lookin' people wanderin' the streets could be "zombies"," he read.

"Yeah, _right_," scoffed Tiffany. "Zombies. As if!"

"They must be zombies," quoted Marco, in a high-pitched girly voice that made everyone else snigger. "I saw one guy outside my house lurchin' around an' groanin', an' he had this kind of _blank_ expression, like he didn't have a brain or somethin'. It was like somethin' out of a bad horror movie."

"Hasn't anyone told these people that zombies don't actually exist?" said Alena.

"Yeah. It's like, "hello, common sense? Where are you?"" said Tiffany sarcastically.

"The guy was probably high on crack or somethin'," said Mitch.

"Or he had a hangover," supplied Eduardo.

"Shut up, I'm readin'," said Marco shortly.

The others fell silent, and he continued:

"This is, of course, a ridiculous rumour that the Mayor an' RPD have been tryin' to quash ever since August, when the RPD's STARS squad returned from an assignment claimin' that zombies were loose in Raccoon Forest an' that they had been created by a virus in a secret mansion laboratory belongin' to the pharmaceuticals giant Umbrella Incorporated. Their claims have since been dismissed as hallucinations brought on by the trauma of the loss of several colleagues durin' the assignment."

"I reckon they'd been at the blue herbs," said Roland. "There are a lot of those things in Raccoon Forest. They've got medicinal properties, of course, but they're strictly for external use only."

"Must've been smokin' 'em or somethin'," said Ritchie, chuckling.

"Yeah, didn't those STARS guys mention giant spiders too?" said Raphael thoughtfully. "An' zombie crows?"

"Giant spiders?" said Maddy sceptically. "They _must_ have been high. You don't get 'em that big even back in Oz. An' that's sayin' somethin'."

"Shut up!" said Marco. "Mayor Warren went on to declare that there are no such things as zombies, an' that there certainly aren't any in the city. However, this has failed to stop the rumours that are spreadin' like wildfire throughout Raccoon City, includin' the story that the so-called "zombies" are somehow linked to the mystery virus that has already killed one person an' left several others in a life-threatening condition. It is hoped that these rumours will eventually die down an' that life in our town will soon return to normal."

He handed the paper back to Almond.

"Zombies. Pfff! Load of junk," he scoffed.

"Aunt Rosa say the same thing this mornin'," Jack agreed.

"Your aunt's right, Jack," said Maddy. "Zombies – huh! Load of nonsense."

"Yeah," said Valerio, and he grinned. "Hey, guys, look, I'm a zombie!"

To the accompaniment of laughter, Valerio held both arms straight out in front of him and pretended to lurch around with a vacant look on his face.

"Uuuhhh," he groaned. "Brains… braaiinnss…."

"Oh no! Valerio's a zombie! Call the Mayor an' tell him he's an idiot!" laughed Almond. "Call the cops! Call the army! Won't someone save us from the zombies?"

Valerio grinned wickedly, and was about to say something when a shot rang out. For a moment he looked astonished, then he fell forwards, landing face down on the sidewalk.

Almond screamed – "Valerio!" – and dropped to her knees beside him. A pool of red was blossoming on the sidewalk underneath Valerio, like a malevolent red flower. She rolled him over, stifling another scream as she saw his wide eyes and the expression of shock frozen on his face.

"Valerio! Come on, man! Wake up!" she shouted, trying to shake him awake.

Batman shoved Almond aside, and grabbed Valerio's wrist, feeling for a pulse. Finding nothing, he dropped the wrist and tried the spot just beneath the jawbone, then the temples. Nothing. No pulse; no breathing, either.

Batman looked up at the other Street Rats, and shook his head. Almond burst into tears.

"Who did this?" she screamed. "Who?"

As one, the Street Rats turned to look in the direction of the shot, and saw a storekeeper standing in the doorway of his shop, shotgun in hand. He was middle-aged, short and plump, with thinning hair and a terrified expression.

Almond gave a screech of rage at the sight of him.

"Murderer! You killed him! You killed Valerio!"

"I – I – I thought he was a zombie!" said the man, looking even more terrified.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" shouted Maddy. "There's no such bloody thing! Zombies don't exist!"

"It's all over the papers," said the man, trembling. "They're saying there's zombies in Raccoon City and they think they're spreading that disease."

"Who's "they"?" Maddy demanded to know. "The people writing the papers? Hah! Everyone knows it's all bloody lies in the papers!"

"That disease killed my wife!" said the man, the pitch of his voice rising. "I'm not taking any chances!"

Jack glanced up at the shop sign – Wrigley's Grocery Store, Est. 1971. He felt like he'd heard the name before. Wrigley, Wrigley…

"Don't move, mister. I'm callin' the cops," said Tiffany darkly, and she ran over to a nearby payphone.

The Street Rats stood in the middle of the street, next to the body of their fallen friend. Up until now they'd been too stunned to really take in what had just happened, but now Valerio's death was starting to sink in, with dramatic results.

Alena and Columbine both started to cry, and Eduardo was trying hard not to do the same.

"Hello, 911? Yeah, the police. That's right… thanks," said Tiffany.

Just four feet away, Roland and Batman were comforting Almond, who was still sobbing hysterically over Valerio's body. Jack swallowed hard, and remembered that the last time he'd spoken to Valerio, he'd gone away muttering "asshole" under his breath. He suddenly felt guilty. Too late to do anything about it now, though. Valerio hadn't heard him, and even if he had, he certainly wouldn't be able to accept an apology now that he was dead.

Wrigley… the name was driving him mad. Where had he heard it before?

"… Hello, RPD? I'd like to report an incident outside Wrigley's Grocery Store," said Tiffany. "The storekeeper just shot someone dead…"

Maddy was still arguing with Mr Wrigley, who was beginning to sweat nervously – not least because Marco, Mitch, Raphael and Ritchie were standing behind her and glowering at him.

"I swear I didn't know," he said wildly. "If I knew he was only pretending, I never would have shot him! I'm not a murderer! I just didn't want to die like my wife did! She couldn't even remember her own name at the end! I don't want to end up like my poor Beatrice!"

Wrigley, Wrigley – ah, yes. Beatrice Wrigley was the woman who died from the mystery illness. _So this must be her husband Rodney_, thought Jack, feeling vaguely pleased that he'd figured it out. And yet something was still bothering him…

__

Oh no, thought Jack. _Dint Beatrice Wrigley babysit Lise when she be grounded? What if Lise be ill too? I gotta see if she be okay…_

The sound of approaching sirens convinced Jack that it would be a good idea to leave now. After being wrongfully arrested twice, he was understandably wary of the police and didn't think it would be a good career move to be in the same street as a dead body, even though he hadn't actually done anything. He hadn't done anything the other two times, either. So Jack made a hasty exit when everyone else's attention was elsewhere, and ran back to uptown as fast as his legs could carry him.

----------

Lisa was in the middle of writing invitations when she heard the knock at the door. Wondering who it was, she got out of her seat and went to answer the front door.

She was pleasantly surprised to see Jack standing on the doorstep. For some reason he looked worried.

"Hello, Jack," said Lisa. "Is everything okay? I didn't see you in school today. Don't tell me you were ill, you'll scare me to death. You know that disease killed another guy this afternoon? I just heard it on the news – it was that guy who got attacked by crows. And they're saying that disease is being spread by zombies or something, isn't that stupid? There's no such thing as zombies!"

"Tell that to you neighbour's husband," said Jack. "He just killed one of my amigos 'cause he thought he was a zombie!"

Lisa was shocked.

"That's terrible! Who was it?" she asked.

"Valerio," said Jack. "We all be makin' fun of the newspaper stories, y'know, an' Valerio does a zombie impression – next thin' we know, BLAM! He be lyin' flat on the floor in a puddle of blood an' this guy Wrigley claimin' he think Valerio be a zombie an' he dint mean to shoot him. He say somethin' 'bout his wife an' I remember she babysit you an' she just die from this disease. So I come to see if you be okay. You ain't sick or anythin'?"

"No, Jack, I'm fine," said Lisa, shaking her head. "Just fine."

"Okay," said Jack, relieved. "Sorry I bother you. See you_ mañana, _'kay?"

"Okay."

"Bye, Lise."

Lisa waved goodbye, and closed the door. She was about to go back into the living room and finish writing the invitations when the phone rang.

Lisa picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she said.

"_Dr Hartley, the L-Project is dangerous. You have to end it now_," said a woman's voice. "_I don't care what the others say. If it isn't stopped, it'll destroy everything_."

"Oh, not _another_ prank caller," Lisa sighed. "Don't you people have lives?"

She hung up, and went off to finish writing the invitations. This time, there were no further interruptions.


	11. Martial Law

****

11: Martial Law

Days passed, but Raccoon City's fear didn't. Every day the newspapers reported new "cannibal murder" cases, attacks by dogs and birds, deaths from the mysterious virus, and more sightings of "zombies" in downtown.

That was bad enough. What was worse was Lisa's rapidly deteriorating family life. Her parents were almost never home now, and when they were, they argued constantly, shouting about something called the L-Project. They no longer paid the slightest bit of attention to Lisa, and it was getting depressing.

At school Julie chattered on endlessly about the party, and how much fun it was going to be – despite all the gossip and rumours about the zombies, and all the newspaper reports, none of the students in Raccoon City High seemed too bothered about what was reputedly going on in the town.

"It's just sensationalism in the media."

"I bet they made it all up to sell more papers."

"My daddy says it's not true."

"I haven't seen anything weird."

"Even if there is something going on, it's nothing to do with us."

"It's all happening in downtown, isn't it?"

"We're perfectly safe."

"I'm sure the police have everything under control."

Only Jack and Lisa were worried. Neither of them believed in zombies, but they knew that there was some kind of trouble brewing in Raccoon City, even if their classmates didn't.

A big clue had come on Thursday the 24th of September, when martial law had been declared in Raccoon City – the official reason was that due to the increasing number of cases of the mystery virus, the authorities wanted to contain the disease before it spread to neighbouring towns.

The reaction of the townspeople was bizarre to say the least. On one hand, hundreds of people were frantically trying – and failing - to get out of the city, their cars stuffed with personal possessions. On the other hand, just as many of Raccoon City's citizens were cheerfully going about their business, insisting that everybody was overreacting and that it would all be over soon.

"I got a real bad feelin' 'bout this," said Jack, as he and Lisa watched some police officers setting up a roadblock near the edge of the city. "I think we should get outta town right now."

"We _can't_, remember?" said Lisa irritably. "They blocked off all the roads. There's no way out of town. Believe me, I should know. Mom and Dad drove round for hours this morning trying to leave, and every time we even got close to the city limits we were turned back. We're trapped. Like -"

"Rats," Jack finished.

"Exactly."

They both sighed, and carried on watching the roadblock. The sun was starting to go down, and the light cast a soft pink glow over the whole scene. If it hadn't been for the ominous presence of the roadblock, thought Lisa vaguely, it would have been quite romantic.

Jack thought so too. In fact, part of him was suggesting that now might be a good time to ask her if –

__

No, no, I no can do it, he thought. _I be too scared. What if she say no? Or what if she laugh at me? Oh, God, I prob'ly die if she laugh at me... I dunt want her to say no, please dunt let her say no. Okay. Okay. I gonna ask her - no, no, I be too scared to ask! But I never gonna know if I dunt ask… well, here goes…_

"Lise?" said Jack nervously. He could already feel himself starting to blush.

"Yes?" said Lisa.

"I dunt really know how I gonna say this," said Jack awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It be real difficult. I be wantin' to ask you for a long time…"

"What is it, Jack?" said Lisa.

Jack opened his mouth, and to his horror he realised that he'd forgotten what he was going to say.

"I – uh, I mean, uh, would you…" he trailed off, unsure of what to do next.

"Yes?" said Lisa, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh man," Jack groaned, and buried his head in his hands. He took a deep breath, looked back up at Lisa, and tried again.

"What I be tryin' to say is," he began, "Will you - "

"Hey, you kids! Move along, will you? Nothing to see here," one of the police officers called. "Come on, it's nearly time for curfew. Go home, yeah?"

In the privacy of his own head Jack swore loudly and repeatedly, in both English and Spanish. _Why, why, why_? he thought. _It ain't fair! I be just 'bout to ask her to go out with me, an' now this stupid cop guy hadda go an' wreck everythin'!_

"Sorry, Jack," said Lisa. "I'd better go now. Ask me tomorrow instead, right?"

"Right," said Jack, cursing inwardly. "See you later, yeah?"

"You got it. Well, see you tomorrow. Bye, Jack!" Lisa called as she started crossing the street.

"Yeah, bye," said Jack glumly. With one last look at the setting sun, he started to make his way home.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!" muttered Jack. "You a damn fool, Jack Carpenter. Why the hell dunt you just tell Lise you love her? It ain't hard – oh, who I tryin' to kid? It be the hardest thing in the world."

Without warning, something grabbed Jack's ankle. He gave a start, and looked down at what was impeding his progress – it was a beggar, sitting on the sidewalk. His skin was covered with scratches and patches of sore-looking skin, and his eyes were a milky white; he was blind.

"Pleeeaaase," groaned the beggar, clutching Jack's ankle even tighter. "Itchy, hungry. No money hospital. Help meeee… so hungry…"

"Agh!" cried Jack, realising that the man was infected. "Let me go!"

"So hungry… itchy… need hospital…"

"Let go!"

"Feeed meee?"

"_No_!"

Panicking, Jack broke free and ran away. The beggar's plaintive cries followed him down the street:

"Itchy… help meeee…"

----------

The door was open – not just unlocked, but actually open and swinging in the breeze. Jack stared at it, wondering if one of his aunt's clients had left it open. It certainly wasn't like Aunt Rosa to leave the front door open.

Very cautiously, Jack went into the apartment.

"Aunt Rosa?" he called.

Silence. Jack felt uneasy. Something wasn't right…

He looked around. There was no-one in the living room. Still calling his aunt's name, Jack checked the kitchen, the bathroom, and his aunt's room, but there was no-one there.

"What the hell…?" said Jack to himself.

There was a faint noise in the other bedroom. Frowning, Jack went to investigate.

"Aunt Rosa?" he said, puzzled. "What you be doin' in my room?"

Jack's aunt was lying on his bed, apparently asleep, but her eyes flickered open as he came into the room.

"_Jack_?" she said, in Spanish. "_Oh, I'm sorry. I came in here to open a window, and I just felt exhausted, so I lay down for a minute and I guess I fell asleep. I've been feeling tired all afternoon_."

"_Business_?" said Jack.

"_Yes. You know, one of my clients bit me this morning when you were out. Can you believe that_?_ Must've got a bit carried away._"

Jack felt his blood go cold.

"_He bit you_?" he said quietly. "_Let me see._"

"_Don't fuss, Jack. It's nothing_," his aunt protested, as Jack came over to look.

"_Auntie, it's important_," Jack argued. "_Now where did he bite you_?"

"_My arm_," said Aunt Rosa, lifting up the sleeve of her shirt. "_It itches a little_."

Jack stifled a gasp as he saw the bite-marks.

"_Auntie, this is bad. You have to get to the hospital right away_!" he told her.

"_Why_?"

"_Haven't you been following the news_?"

"_I don't understand the news, Jack! You know I don't speak English_!"

"_I'm talking about those murders, and that weird disease! They think the two things are related_. _The disease is dangerous, Auntie, people have died already_!_ First something bites you and the wound gets infected, then you start itching and feeling tired_! _After that comes headaches, nausea, vomiting, more itching, rapid mental degeneration and death_!"

"_Don't tell me you're starting to believe this zombie nonsense,_" said Aunt Rosa.

"_I don't believe it – at least, I don't think so_," said Jack._ "But I do believe in the disease, and I know you've got to get to hospital right now_!"

"_Jack, I'm fine - _"

Aunt Rosa stopped, and started to cough violently.

"_I think I'm going to be sick_," she gasped.

"_I'm calling an ambulance,_" said Jack, backing towards the door.

"_Don't be stupid, Jack,_" said Aunt Rosa, in between coughs. "_I'm all right_."

"_No, you're not_!" Jack shouted. "_Aunt Rosa, if you've got this disease, then you have to get to the hospital right away. If you don't, you'll die_!"

He ran to the phone in the living room and called 911.

Later, as the ambulance drove away with his stricken aunt in the back, it struck Jack that Aunt Rosa might die anyway. After all, there was still no cure…

As this thought sank in, Jack's initial adrenaline-fuelled panic evaporated, only to be replaced by a deep feeling of nervous dread. He felt cold, sick and scared. What would happen to him if his aunt died? He'd be all alone. He'd lose his home – he was old enough to get a job, true, but he wouldn't earn anywhere near enough money to pay the rent, and Mr Ziegler wouldn't let him stay there for free. And he had nowhere else to go, no-one to turn to.

Ever since his mother had died, Aunt Rosa had looked after him with barely a word of complaint. She'd gone hungry on countless occasions in order to put food in his mouth and clothes on his back, she'd refused clients in order to nurse him whenever he was ill, and she'd always been there for him when he needed her. She'd cared for him as if he was her own son instead of her nephew, and Jack knew she loved him dearly, despite all the trouble he'd caused her over the years. He loved his aunt, and the thought of losing her as well was almost more than he could stand.

"Oh, Auntie, please be okay," he whispered. "Please. You be all I got."


	12. Bad News

****

12: Bad News

Saturday 26th September 1998

Lisa was concerned. Yesterday Jack had seemed unusually quiet and subdued, as he always did when he was worried about something. She'd asked him what was wrong, but he'd told her repeatedly that he was fine.

He never was much good at lying to me, she thought. _No matter what he says, I know that something's bothering him. And I intend to find out what it is…_

"Mom, I'm going out, okay?" Lisa called down the stairs, but then she remembered that her parents weren't home. In fact, she hadn't seen them at all in three days; they'd been sleeping at work recently, ordering pizzas whenever they were hungry. Whatever was happening at work, it was obviously very important if they had to spend all their time there.

Lisa sighed. Her relationship with her parents wasn't ideal – far from it – but despite all the arguments and misunderstanding, she missed them terribly.

She went downstairs and into the kitchen, glancing at the clock in the hallway as she passed. It was coming up to seven o'clock, so she'd probably be breaking curfew by the time she got to downtown, but she didn't really care. She had to find out what was wrong with Jack.

Lisa donned a coat – it was getting cold outside - and picked up the front door key on her way out of the house. She locked the front door, pocketed the key, and hurried out into the street.

----------

Jack awoke with a jolt. He hadn't even realised that he was tired, and yet here he was, lying on the couch in the living room, surrounded by empty beer bottles. The television was still on, showing an old talk-show episode. Why had he been watching television in the first place?

He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything, except the one thing he'd been trying to forget – his aunt was in hospital, infected with the incurable mystery virus, and she was probably going to die.

"Ohhh, God," he groaned. Wasn't drinking supposed to make you forget stuff? Well, he'd drunk five bottles of Budweiser and it hadn't worked; all it had done was give him a raging headache.

He debated whether to get up and find some painkillers for the headache, or to try to sleep it off. After trying and failing to sit up, the pain forcing him to lie down again, he decided that sleeping was the better option.

Jack turned over, and was just about to go back to sleep when someone knocked at the door downstairs.

"Go away," he called, wincing slightly – it hurt to talk.

"Jack? It's me, Lisa!"

Jack sat bolt upright, and looked around him. The room was a mess; littered with empty bottles and cans, and clothes from two days ago.

"Hell, what a mess!" he exclaimed, and tried to clear up the worst of the debris. He pulled on a clean shirt, went downstairs, and answered the door.

"Jack?" said Lisa, looking startled. "My God, you look awful! Are you all right?"

Jack nodded, and then wished he hadn't as his head began to throb. Talking was painful, but nodding was sheer agony.

"Hung over," he muttered.

"Serves you right for drinking so much," said Lisa matter-of-factly.

"'S'all right for you," Jack said bitterly. "It ain't you aunt who be in hospital."

"Your aunt's in hospital?" said Lisa, surprised. "Is she okay?"

"No," said Jack.

"What's wrong with her?" Lisa asked, and then it struck her. "Oh no," she gasped. "She isn't – she's not infected, is she?"

"Yeah," said Jack, swallowing hard. "She be infected."

He gestured for Lisa to come inside, and she followed him up the stairs and into the apartment. They both sat down on the couch. Lisa tried to ignore the mess as best she could.

"So when did you find out she was sick?" said Lisa.

"Thursday," said Jack. "Just after I get home."

"And there's no cure, is there?" said Lisa.

"No," said Jack miserably. "There ain't no cure. She prob'ly gonna die, Lise. An' there be nothin' I can do 'bout it. I dunt know what to do, Lise. I be scared. I dunt want to lose my aunt as well as my mama!"

Seeing her friend so upset was distressing to say the very least, and Lisa wished with all her heart that there was something she could say or do to make everything all right again. But she knew there was nothing, nothing at all, that could help Aunt Rosa. Jack was right – she was probably going to die. And knowing this made Lisa feel even worse.

"About Thursday," said Lisa, hurriedly changing the subject. "What were you going to ask me?"

Jack gulped. Why, oh why did she have to ask that question now?

"Well," he floundered. "Uh, I just wanna know if maybe you - "

"Yes?" said Lisa, wondering what it was that he was finding so difficult to ask.

"Would you - "

And then the phone rang. Frustrated, disappointed, cursing heaven and earth and the caller and the phone company, Jack got up and answered the phone.

"_Hola,_" he said. "Jack Carpenter here."

"Hello, Mr Carpenter," said the caller. "This is Raccoon City General Hospital. It's about your aunt, Rosa Jemez? I'm afraid we have some bad news."

Jack's heart sank into what felt like an endless black hole.

"What is it?" he said anxiously.

"As you've probably guessed, your aunt was infected with the mystery virus," began the woman from the hospital. "Although we did our best to help her, she didn't respond to her treatment, and medication had no visible effect. We did everything we could, but then her condition deteriorated sharply, and – well, I'm afraid she passed away a few minutes ago."

"Oh, no," Jack breathed. "Oh, God, no…"

"I'm really sorry," the woman continued. "This must be a terrible shock. It's never easy, receiving bad news. If you'd like to talk to one of our bereavement counsellors, then - "

She got no further; Jack had already put the phone down.

"Who was it?" said Lisa.

Jack stared into space for a moment, white-faced and wide-eyed. Then he closed his eyes. He took a long, deep, shuddering breath, and closed his eyes even tighter. Very slowly, he sat down on the floor.

"Jack?" said Lisa. "Are you okay?"

He looked up at her, and to Lisa's alarm he burst into tears.

"Jack! Jack, what is it?" she gasped. "What's wrong?"

"It be the hospital," said Jack faintly, wiping his eyes. "They tell me my aunt – my aunt – oh, Lise!"

Sobbing, he buried his head in his hands. Lisa knelt down next to him, and put her arm around his shaking shoulders.

"She didn't make it, did she?" said Lisa quietly.

Jack shook his head. "She die a few minutes ago," he said shakily. "An' now I be all alone. No mama. No dad. No even my aunt Rosa. They all gone, Lise. I got nobody."

A tear trickled down his cheek.

"An' now my aunt be dead, she no around to pay the rent, an' I no can pay it, so they gonna turf me out, Lise. But I got nowhere to go! What'm I gonna do?" he sobbed.

Lisa put her arms around him and held him tightly as he wept, ignoring the tears soaking through the shoulder of her T-shirt. All she could think about was Jack – what would happen to him now?

"What'm I gonna do?" Jack whispered, over and over again.

"I don't know," said Lisa. "I just don't know."

They sat there for what seemed like forever. As Jack sobbed uncontrollably into her shoulder, Lisa stroked his hair and murmured:

"It's okay, Jack. It's okay."

It wasn't, of course – she knew that only too well. He'd just lost his family, his home, and what little love and security he had; another major blow in a life already touched by tragedy. But she didn't know what else to say.

"Thank you," said Jack eventually, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"For what?" said Lisa.

"For bein' here."

"That's all right. But I'd better go now, Jack. It's almost dark, and I need to get home. I'll come and see you again in the morning."

"Dunt go," Jack begged her, clutching her arm. "Please, dunt leave me!"

Lisa saw the look in his eyes – pleading, with a flicker of fear – and changed her mind about leaving. She couldn't bring herself to leave him now, when he needed her. The thought of Jack sitting in the cold, dark apartment, alone and afraid, was simply unbearable.

"All right, I'll stay," she promised.

Relief washed over Jack's tear-stained face.

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "B'sides, it be gettin' dark. It ain't safe for you to be out alone. You better stay here till morning."

"No problem. I'll sleep on the couch," said Lisa.


	13. Dead Inside

****

13: Dead Inside

Sunday 27th September 1998

It was so early in the morning that it was still late at night. In the living room, Lisa was sleeping uneasily on Jack's couch. Something horrible was haunting her dreams - something malevolent, lurking just out of sight of the mind's eye and casting an ominous shadow over what would otherwise have been a very pleasant dream.

In the murky, misty world of dreams, she was standing on the little decorative bridge in Raccoon Park, with Jack at her side. It was a warm summer night, the stars were out, the moon was shining on the water and the air was heavy with the scent of roses. She was looking up at Jack, secretly liking his eyes, his smile, his look of utter devotion, even the fringe of blond hair that he'd deliberately cut to eye-length because she'd once said it looked cute.

Lisa wondered if his eyes looked as beautiful as that in real life, if they really were such a deep, hypnotic sky-blue, or whether it was just the effect of the dream. It occurred to her that she'd never really looked before. Up until now – he'd just met her gaze, and those eyes were so blue, so compelling, she just wanted to lose herself in them forever, to fall and drown in the deep blue.

"I love you," he said, very softly – her brain registered it as Spanish, but her ears swore she'd heard it in English – and suddenly she found herself drawn irresistibly towards him, like a helpless moth to a brightly burning flame.

The kiss felt so good - deliciously, almost painfully sweet. But something didn't feel quite right; all the while she sensed something dark and dreadful behind her, something she couldn't see but could certainly feel. Whatever it was, it was unmistakeably evil.

Lisa turned round, and saw a huge creature, man-shaped but hideously deformed. Its eyes were blank and unseeing, its mouth a cruel snarl, its skin rotting off its enormous form. It gave a roar, grabbed Jack by the throat before she had a chance to react, and hurled her would-be boyfriend into the pond. She screamed as it reached towards her…

…and woke up, still screaming. When she saw an unfamiliar man standing next to her, she screamed even more.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she yelled.

"Hey, hey! Calm down, kid! I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry, the door was open, and I thought Rosa was in. I've come to see her, is she here?"

"No," said Lisa, breathing out again – she didn't even know that she'd been holding her breath. "No, I'm sorry, she's not. She died at the hospital a few hours ago. You won't find her here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the man, looking disappointed. "Well, I guess it explains why her kid's drinking my favourite bar out of business."

"What?" said Lisa, confused. "But Jack's here – isn't he?"

"Nope. He's sitting in the Blackjack bar in uptown, working his way through every bottle of beer in the building. Barman'll be pleased. The curfew's hit business pretty hard. Only a few defiant folks like me out tonight. Well, if Rosa's not here then I'd better go. And you'd better shut that door, kid. It's not safe to sleep with it open all night. Some crazy folks have been walking round here lately. Bye, then."

The man departed, closing the door behind him, leaving Lisa wallowing in a sea of bewilderment. Why had Jack gone out, when he was so worried about being alone, and worried about her being out alone in the dark? Well, she couldn't just leave him to drink himself into a stupor; she had to go and bring him back home again.

Lisa got off the couch and checked the other rooms of the little apartment just to make sure that Jack wasn't there – the man was right, Jack definitely wasn't home. So now she had to brave the possible dangers that the downtown streets held late at night.

"He'd do the same for me," she told herself firmly. Pulling on her coat, she took a deep breath to steel her nerves, and set out to look for Jack.

Exactly seventeen minutes and fifty-one seconds later she found him slumped at the counter of Blackjack, surrounded by empty beer bottles, just as the man had told her.

"Jack!" she exclaimed.

"Lise?" said Jack muzzily, raising his head. "Why you here?"

"My God, how much did you drink?" said Lisa, aghast.

"Uhhh… eight b'ttles, think," he said vaguely, swaying in his seat.

"You let him drink that much?" Lisa shouted at the impassive bartender. "My God, what the hell is wrong with you? It's two o'clock in the goddamn morning and here you are, letting _a sixteen-year old kid_ try to break the record for most liver damage achieved in twenty-four hours!"

"I didn't know he was underage," said the bartender, shrugging. "And besides, business has been dreadful. I have to sell to someone, or my kids go hungry."

"So that makes it okay to let another kid get himself so drunk he can barely speak?" Lisa demanded to know. "Look at him! You tell me how he'd be able to get home safely in that state! If it wasn't for me he'd probably have woken up in a dumpster somewhere, trying to remember who the hell he is and where he lives!"

"Well, you're here," said the bartender shortly. "Now pick him up and get him the hell out of here before I lose my liquor license."

Lisa glared at him, then turned her attention to Jack.

"Come on, hon, let's get you home, huh?" she said, helping him onto his feet. She staggered a little under his weight at first, but managed to support him.

"Who's going to pay for this?" the bartender demanded to know.

Incensed, Lisa slammed a ten-dollar bill on the counter, then helped Jack to stagger out of the bar, throwing the bartender a dirty look as she left.

----------

"Nearly home, Jack," Lisa reassured him, as they turned into Jack's street.

"Thanks, Lise," said Jack indistinctly. "You the greatest inna whole worl'. You prob'ly real mad with me. I know 'm drunk… 'm sorry. Real sorry."

"That's okay," said Lisa. "I'm not angry with you."

And she wasn't. Nobody was more surprised at this than she was. But he'd just lost the last member of his family, and he'd soon be kicked out of his home. As far as she was concerned, he was quite entitled to drown his sorrows in these circumstances – even at two o'clock in the morning.

"You no mad?" said Jack.

"Of course not," said Lisa. "I was worried, though," she added.

"'Bout me?"

"Yes."

"Sorry I scare you."

"Never mind. I'm just glad you're okay. Just don't do it again, right?"

"'Kay. Lise?"

"What?"

"You most beau'ful girl inna world… universe, even. An' I love you."

Lisa couldn't help smiling. She didn't know how much was truth and how much was the beer he'd had, but it was sweet all the same.

Her thoughts skipped back to the dream. Kissing him had been wonderful. Would it be like that in real life, though? The answer was probably not. Now she was almost certain that he loved her, but she wasn't sure if it was the other way around. And it wouldn't be fair to kiss him now, when he was drunk and she didn't even know if she really felt the same as he did.

Even if she did love him, it probably wouldn't work out. They were from two completely different worlds – she was a wealthy uptown girl who'd never wanted for anything, and he'd seen nothing but poverty and hardship in his life. Her parents would never speak to her again, and – well, it just wouldn't be fair on anyone.

It was disappointing, though, to just dismiss any chance of being with him. Part of her thought it would have been really nice to call Jack hers, to be his, to be together for who knows how long.

Oh well. It was nice to dream. But she had to wake up and smell the roses – and not the ones in the dream, either.

Lisa opened the door, and helped him up the stairs to his apartment and through the door into the living room.

"Aunt Rosa, 'm back," Jack called, then through a drunken haze he remembered that she was gone. Although he was back, she wasn't, and she never would be.

"She's gone, Jack," Lisa reminded him gently.

"I know," he murmured. "I jus' rem'ber she be dead. Man, Lise, I feel dead inside. Like those zombies they say be walkin' roun' town. Jus' walkin' round, feelin' nothin'. No happy. No sad. Nothin'. Jus' – blank. Empty. Numb. I no can cry or nothin'. I dunt feel a thin'. That normal?"

"I wouldn't know," said Lisa. "I've never lost anyone before. Come on, Jack, you'd better go to bed and sleep it off."

"Yeah. Got school _mañana_."

"No we haven't."

"How come?"

"Sunday. And we don't have school on Monday either, because they closed the schools when they declared martial law."

"Right," said Jack sleepily. "Hey, I ain't got a present for you birthday! The shops no be open Sunday… oh, jeez. Sorry."

"That's okay. Buy it Monday morning and come and see me before the party – or after, if you want. Don't worry about my parents being home, they haven't come home from work for days," Lisa assured him. "Now forget about it and go to sleep."

"You ain't gonna go, are you?" said Jack.

"No," said Lisa. "I'll be right here if you need me."

"Right," said Jack again. "'Night."

"Sleep well," said Lisa. "And don't sneak out again. I'm not coming out to look for you twice in one night."

"I won't," he promised, and went to bed.

Since she was no longer tired, having been woken up, Lisa sat down on the couch and watched television for a while. There was nothing on – no change there, Lisa thought – but watching television late at night always made her tired.

Just before she attempted to go back to sleep, Lisa went to check on Jack. He was sleeping soundly in his bed, showing no sign of wanting to wake up any time soon. There was an expression of peace and contentment on his face, as if he was dreaming about something nice.

On a sudden impulse, Lisa bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

"The hell with it," she said fiercely. "I don't care what they think. I don't care if you're from downtown and I'm not. And I don't know if I love you, Jack Carpenter, but I intend to find out."

She left Jack's room, angry with herself and the whole world for letting her think she couldn't have him. She never saw Jack smile in his sleep as the kiss on his forehead filtered into his dreams.


	14. Uninvited Guests

****

14: Uninvited Guests

Monday 28th September 1998

The day of Lisa's party dawned, bright and sunny. Normally the sunshine never failed to make Lisa happy. But today she just couldn't work up enthusiasm for anything, least of all a party that she didn't even want.

Julie turned up at exactly 9 a.m., bursting with energy and looking far happier than anyone had a right to be first thing in the morning. As Lisa watched, bleary-eyed, Julie took over the entire house with her preparations for the party, chatting all the while:

"I can't wait for this party, this'll be so much fun, it'll take everyone's mind off these stupid zombie rumours at any rate, and I know you're disappointed about your bestest buddy from downtown not coming, but believe me it'll be much better without him being here, and don't you think Phil Barrett is much cuter than he is anyway?"

10 o'clock came, and then 11 o'clock – by now Lisa was looking longingly at the clock, hoping that Jack was going to come over and rescue her from the party-obsessed Julie. If he swept her off her feet and carried her off into the sunset at the same time, she decided, this was all to the good.

But he never came. 11 o'clock was closely followed by 12 o'clock, and suddenly Lisa found herself besieged from all sides by guests, many of whom she'd never seen before in her life.

"Julie," said Lisa, after greeting another group of people that she'd never even met, "Correct me if I'm wrong and I can't count properly, but I think there's more than fourteen people. Quite a _lot_ more, actually."

"Well, I did tell everyone they could bring friends, didn't I?" said Julie, as if having twenty or thirty extra guests unexpectedly turning up was no big deal.

It was at times like these that Lisa felt like strangling Julie.

"And it didn't occur to you to _ask_ me at all, did it?" said Lisa, through gritted teeth.

"You're just making a fuss over nothing, Lisa," said Julie breezily. "Chill out."

"Fine. I'll go sit in the refrigerator for a couple of hours and let the party go on without me. Bang on the door when they've all gone and it's safe to come out," said Lisa sarcastically.

"Oh, no, don't do that," said Julie absent-mindedly as she pinned a fallen banner back up. "The frost will _ruin_ your hair, dear."

Lisa snorted, and went out into the back yard. It had been completely taken over by her guests and their friends and relations; there was a baseball game going on at the far end of the yard, and those who weren't participating were chatting in groups, helping themselves to food and drink, or fighting over which radio station to put on.

Lisa wondered why she'd allowed Julie to take over her social life yet again. Why hadn't she refused? She wished she'd screamed "No!" so loudly that even Julie would have taken the hint; she wished even more that she'd never let Julie become her official best friend after Charlotte went.

What _had_ happened to Charlotte, anyway? One day she'd been sitting at her desk; the next, just gone. When Lisa had gone round to her house the next day, it was empty, and stripped bare – it looked as if Charlotte and her parents had just moved out, but Charlotte hadn't mentioned anything about moving house, and that wasn't like her. Lisa had asked everyone she knew, even Charlotte's neighbours, but no-one seemed to know where the Lascelles family had gone. They'd just – well, gone.

Lisa missed Charlotte. She'd been a nice girl; shy, retiring, thoughtful and kind, much like Jack in some respects. She wished that Charlotte was here now, to keep her company while she reluctantly hosted this unwanted party.

"Hey, Lisa!" Julie called.

Frowning, Lisa went over to see what she wanted.

"What is it, Julie?" she said.

"We're missing a guest," said Julie.

"Who?" said Lisa. "I thought you invited the whole town."

"Paul's not here," said Julie, pointedly ignoring the remark.

"So where is he?"

Julie shrugged. "No idea. He said he was coming. Maybe he got stuck in traffic."

"What traffic?" said Lisa. "Town's quiet as the grave. I've never seen downtown look so empty. Ever since that thing in the papers about those strange murders, the whole town seems to have just shut down. You don't see more than a handful of people in the whole of Main Street during the day now, and that's weird. Normally you've gotta push, shove and elbow your way from one end of the street to the other."

"Gotta?" sniffed Julie. "God, Lisa, you _have_ to stop hanging round with that Jack guy. You're starting to sound like him – and dress like him! Look at you! Skimpy red top, jeans and sneakers! You're turning into trailer-trash, dear."

"Jack doesn't live in a trailer," Lisa pointed out. "He lives in an apartment above the record store on West and 16th. There aren't any trailers in downtown Raccoon City, Julie, in case you hadn't noticed."

Julie made a face.

"Anyway," said Lisa, continuing, "There's nothing wrong with Jack. He's a really nice guy."

"He's trash," said Julie, "It's about time you realised it."

"He is _not_ trash!" Lisa snapped. "He's my friend. Granted he isn't exactly a paragon of virtue, but he's a decent guy. At least he doesn't skip school or throw stones at his neighbour's cat like Justin, or steal his dad's wallet so he can buy cigarettes like Tyrone does!"

"Hmm," said Julie, who didn't look in the least bit convinced. "If you say so."

Lisa was furious, but before she could say anything more in defence of her friend, the garden gate banged open and her train of thought was suddenly derailed.

Her last guest had arrived; in Lisa's opinion he looked like he should have stayed at home instead. Paul looked pale and tired, and he was swaying slightly, as if he'd had too much to drink – which, since Paul didn't drink, was very strange.

"Hi, Paul!" called one of the boys.

"Hi, Alex," said Paul hollowly, and he didn't sound much better than he looked.

"Hey, what's the matter, Paul? You look terrible!" said Alex.

_Terrible is right_, thought Lisa. _He looks like the living dead!_

"Not feeling well," Paul muttered.

"Too much to drink, huh? I thought you were meant to start drinking _after_ you arrived at Lisa's place, not before!" Alex laughed. "Oh well. Hair of the dog, buddy?"

"No," said Paul abruptly. He frowned, and scratched his arm. And scratched it again. And kept scratching.

"You have fleas or something?" said Alex, grinning. "Stop scratching, Paul!"

"Can't," growled Paul, still scratching obsessively at his arm. With a faint twinge of horror, Lisa noticed that he'd drawn blood.

Alex noticed it too, and he looked concerned. "Hey, stop it, Paul, you're bleeding!" he told his friend.

But Paul shrugged, and carried on scratching. By now, everyone had turned to look, and Lisa suddenly felt uneasy. _Something's not right_…

"Stop it!" shouted Alex, finally losing his cool, and he grabbed Paul's arm.

For a second, Paul stared blankly at the hand gripping his elbow. Then, very slowly, he loosened Alex's grip, held his hand for a moment, and then with an air of concentration he bit into it.

Alex screamed, and pulled his hand free. Blood was running down his wrist in little streaks, welling between his fingers and oozing from the marks on the side of his hand.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he yelled at the impassive Paul, shaking the injured fist in his face. This time Paul snarled and, picking Alex up by the collar of his shirt, he went for the throat. Alex screamed again; a horrible scream of agony that ended abruptly in a gurgle. Paul tossed him aside, and only then did the horrified audience come to their senses.

"Get him!"

"Call the police!"

"He killed Alex! He killed him!"

Lisa's mind was fogging with terror. _What do I do, how do I get out? Got to get away from here, got to run_ _away, far away . . ._

The world blurred, and Lisa panicked. She knew she was going to faint, but she couldn't, not when she was in real trouble – Paul had just thrown two of the guests right across the yard and torn the throat out of a third, and everyone was running and screaming hysterically. There was blood everywhere. Lisa's last thought was _I can't faint, I can't, I can't …_and then everything went black.

----------

Groaning, Lisa slowly opened her eyes, dreading what she was about to see. Paul – no, the zombie-thing that _looked_ like Paul, the real Paul would never have hurt anyone – was looking down at her, as if idly wondering what she'd taste like.

"No!" screamed Lisa, as it lunged at her with clumsy, bloodstained fingers, and she rolled out of its reach just in time. As it snarled, and began lurching towards her, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand – a broken table-leg.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked, and swung the table-leg as hard as she could, hitting it full in the face.

Lisa was expecting the zombie or whatever the thing was to give a cry of pain, or fall over; she certainly wasn't expecting its head to fly off and roll across the yard like an obscene football. But that was exactly what happened.

For a moment she stared at the scene of carnage, at the newly decapitated zombie, at the bodies of her friends, unable to take it all in. It was the most horrific thing she'd seen in her life, and she didn't know whether to cry, scream, or throw up. Instead she just stood there, still holding the table-leg, and stared, speechless and open-mouthed, too shocked to move.

_This is impossible,_ Lisa told herself. _I have to be imagining this_. _If I close my eyes and open them again, everything will be normal. I'll be talking to Julie, Mary will be serving punch to Joey, Tyrone will be play-fighting with Phil and Mike and Jamie, and Leonie and Sarah will be chatting about the concert they went to last week._

Hoping against hope, Lisa closed her eyes, and opened them, but she was still met with the awful sight of corpses and blood. Just in front of her was one of the victims, sprawled on the ground, her wide eyes staring up at the sky, face still locked in a silent scream. Her clothes and blonde hair were soaked with blood. She was just recognisable as Julie.

Dropping the table-leg, Lisa grabbed a cellphone from the hand of a dead guest, and called the police. To her horror, but not entirely to her surprise, there was no answer.

Panic rising in her chest, she tried to call her parents' work number, but no-one answered. The phone rang, on and on, until at last she gave up and turned the cellphone off.

There was a rumble of thunder overhead, and Lisa looked up at the dark clouds that had gathered during her unconsciousness. They'd completely shut out the sunlight, leaving only a thin, greyish second-hand light to illuminate the scene before her. As well as stealing the sunshine, the clouds seemed to have sucked out all the beauty and happiness from the world. Life had turned to death, a party had turned into a massacre, and Lisa's belief that there were no such things as zombies had been turned upside down.

Were there more of these things around? There had to be. Diseases spread, and they'd been talking about the virus for a few weeks now. So given the rate of infection, there were probably hundreds of zombies in Raccoon City by now.

She didn't know what to do. If there were more zombies around, then it was much too dangerous for her to leave the house. Besides, it wouldn't do any good. There were roadblocks and barricades all over town, and Raccoon City was completely sealed off from the outside world. Escape was impossible.

On the other hand, she was damned if she was going to sit there in the back yard and wait for more zombies to come along and eat her alive. If Jack were here, he'd be telling her that, one way or another, they had to get out of town.

Jack… was he still alive? Lisa hoped so. She couldn't bear to think that he might be lying somewhere, scared and alone, slowly bleeding to death after being bitten – or that he had died an agonising death and that even now one of those hideous creatures was tearing lumps out of his cooling flesh.

"Oh, Jack, please be okay," she murmured. "Please, please be all right…"


	15. Leaving Home For The Last Time

****

15: Leaving Home For The Last Time

Jack sat by the window in his living room, looking out and wondering what to do. He hadn't believed in zombies before his aunt died, and even afterwards he still wasn't sure if he believed it. But now there was no doubt that zombies did in fact exist, and that they were all over town.

The thing that had finally convinced him had been a television report aired earlier that day. He'd sat down in front of the television with a bowl of cereal and turned on the breakfast news, and had watched in horror as the reporter was grabbed from behind and ripped apart by someone who looked like he'd been buried for six months and then dug up again. This had been followed by screams, some shaky footage shot by someone running with a camera, then a bloodcurdling scream that was mercifully interrupted by hissing static. Needless to say, he hadn't finished his cereal.

When he looked out of the window, he could see a few people shuffling aimlessly down the street, their faces blank, their clothes bloodstained and their skin the bluish-white hue of the dead. The glass in the window muffled the sounds from outside, but he could just make out a few faint moaning noises.

Where had they all come from? Even yesterday there had only been one or two odd-looking people wandering around. Now there seemed to be dozens, hundreds of the things he now knew to be zombies.

Jack's first instinct was to stay put, but there was no point in that. The problem wouldn't just go away, and he couldn't stay in here forever. Eventually the food would run out, or one of those things would come crashing through the door and get him just like they got his aunt.

So he couldn't stay here. That was definite. Perhaps he could escape; arm himself to the teeth, shoot anything in his way, climb over the barricades and run as far away from Raccoon City as he could. Yes, that might work. Either way, it was better than sitting here and waiting to die.

Then Lisa drifted into Jack's thoughts like a ghost, and he realised that he couldn't leave. Not without her. He'd rather die than abandon her to the endless hordes of the undead.

Jack tried to imagine what would happen if he did leave town without going back for Lisa. Would she be able to escape on her own? Or would she too fall victim to the zombies? The thought of being alive while the girl he loved lay dead in an empty house, with those things feasting on her corpse, was completely beyond the pale.

No. He had to save her – and if she was already dead, then he'd kill himself. He didn't want to live in a world without her.

"It's okay, Lise. I gonna rescue you," he said aloud. "I just hope I ain't too late."

Before he left, Jack scoured the whole apartment for anything that might be useful; his skateboard, the first-aid kit from the bathroom, spare clothes from his room, some food from the kitchen cupboards, and one of the kitchen knives tucked into his belt as an afterthought.

"What else?" Jack said to himself, and then he remembered that his aunt always used to keep a gun in her bedroom, just in case one of her clients suddenly turned nasty.

He hurried into his aunt's room and eventually came across the gun, which had probably been hidden under the pillows but had since fallen underneath Aunt Rosa's bed. More searching turned up a box of bullets in the drawer of her nightstand.

"_Gracias_, Auntie," said Jack under his breath.

Jack took one last look at each room in the apartment that had been his home for a few short months. Each room brought back memories – his aunt washing dishes in the kitchen while he told her about his first day at Raccoon City High; staying up all night watching horror movies and falling asleep on the couch ten minutes before he had to go to school; Aunt Rosa cursing as she tried to unblock the bathroom sink; sitting on his bed trying to write a short story for an English assignment; Aunt Rosa digging out a photograph album from her bottom drawer and showing him a picture of his mother.

He'd never be here again. Everything – the threadbare couch, the monochrome television, the striped curtains in the kitchen, the temperamental bathroom taps, the heavy metal posters taped to his bedroom walls – would stay like this forever, exactly as he left it.

Jack sighed as he left the apartment, closing the door carefully behind him – not that it mattered any more. No-one would be crazy enough to worry about looting when monsters roamed the streets.

The stairs creaked beneath his feet as he went down to street-level. Very slowly, Jack opened the front door, and found himself standing face to face with a zombie. Her eyes were milky-white and sightless, and her golden hair was matted with drying blood.

He recognised the pale, expressionless face. Just a few days earlier he'd seen her standing next to Alena, crying as she realised that Valerio had just been shot dead before her very eyes.

"Columbine," he whispered. "Oh, no…"

The thing that had once been his friend Columbine moaned as it reached out towards him; Jack dodged just in time and ran for his life, praying that he could outrun these things and that they really were as stupid in real life as they were in the movies.

The streets of downtown Raccoon City flashed past Jack's eyes as he ran towards uptown, ignoring his protesting leg-muscles and dodging the undead. Some of them he vaguely recognised as fellow Street Rats, but there was no time to mourn for his not-quite-dead friends; he had to get to Lisa.

Jack didn't stop running until he reached Lisa's front door.

"Lise!" he bellowed, pounding on the door. "Lise, you there?"

----------

Lisa heard Jack at the front door, and relief washed over her like warm water. He was alive!

"I'm coming, Jack!" she yelled, throwing the back door open and running through the kitchen and hall. She opened the front door, and nearly cried with relief when she saw Jack standing on the doorstep, shaken but unhurt.

"Oh, Jack, you're okay!" Lisa exclaimed. "I was so worried… what's going on, Jack? Why is everyone turning into zombies?"

"I got no idea," said Jack hopelessly. "They say you get bit by one an' you turn into one too, but where they come from in the first place? You should see downtown, it be like Night of the Livin' Dead out there! We got zombies all over the place!"

"I know," said Lisa quietly. "There was a zombie at my birthday party – one of my guests, Paul, he didn't look well, and then he attacked Alex, he killed him, and everyone was running and screaming…"

Lisa swallowed hard, trying not to cry, and continued:

"And now everyone's dead, and I can't call the police, and my mom and dad aren't answering at work, and – and – oh, Jack, I'm so scared!"

Lisa couldn't keep the tears at bay any longer; the first one fell like a raindrop and splashed on her red camisole top, staining the material a slightly darker red. She felt ashamed; she hardly ever cried, but here she was, standing on the doorstep and sobbing like a frightened child.

Not wanting to see the dismayed expression on Jack's face, Lisa closed her eyes. She felt the wind blowing through her hair, the tears falling from her eyes – and then she felt a warm, soft hand wiping away her tears.

"'S okay, Lise," said Jack gently. "'S okay. We gonna make it through this, I promise. Dunt cry, Lise. Please dunt cry. You gonna make me cry too. I always start cryin' when I see other people cry."

"I can't help it!" Lisa sobbed. "I'm so frightened! Oh, God, I don't want to die!"

"You ain't gonna die, Lise," said Jack. "I ain't gonna let those things hurt you, I promise. C'mon, dry you eyes an' get you stuff. We need to get outta town b'fore it be too late."

"What about my parents?" said Lisa, wiping her eyes.

Jack had forgotten all about Lisa's parents.

"Where they at?" he asked.

"They work for Umbrella," said Lisa. "You know, the pharmaceuticals company? They make medicines and vaccines and stuff. There are a couple of Umbrella facilities in town, but my parents work in a lab at Umbrella's headquarters."

"Okay, we go look for you parents first, then we get outta town," said Jack. "Dunt know how we gonna get all the way there when there be zombies all over town, but never mind. We better go see if there be anythin' useful we can take with us."

They went inside, closing the front door behind them.

"So what do we need?" said Lisa.

"Weapons," said Jack simply. "Food, warm clothes, maybe a first aid kit. But you gotta pack light. You no can run away from zombies with a wardrobe on you back."

"Right," Lisa agreed. "You pack some food from the kitchen, and I'll get some clothes and stuff from upstairs."

"If you got anythin' you no can bear to leave behind, you better take it," Jack suggested. "Somehow I dunt think we be comin' back here real soon."

"I think you're right," said Lisa. "Okay, I'll be down in a minute."

Jack nodded, and Lisa ran upstairs to her room. She had always wondered what she'd take with her if she had to leave home in a hurry and couldn't go back; now she had the perfect opportunity to find out.

Lisa looked around at all the things in her bedroom, and suddenly none of her possessions seemed terribly important any more. All her clothes, jewellery, makeup, CDs, posters and ornaments – there was nothing here that she couldn't live without. Certainly nothing that she valued more than her own life.

She picked out a favourite bracelet from her jewellery box, and one or two pieces of clothing that she would have regretted leaving behind, but nothing else.

Was there anything else up here that might come in handy? There was a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet; maybe that could be useful.

Lisa went down the hall to the bathroom and opened the door.

----------

Jack was sitting at the kitchen table when he heard the scream from upstairs. A door slammed, and Lisa came running downstairs.

"Lise? Lise, what is it?" he called, getting to his feet.

"Zombie… in the bathroom… it almost got me," said Lisa, gasping for breath.

"We better get outta here," said Jack, and he went to look out of the kitchen window to see if there were any zombies in the street outside.

"Is it safe?" said Lisa.

"No," he said. "But much better than stayin' here, right?"

"I agree," said Lisa, shuddering. "Oh, God, that was horrible! I've never seen anything so disgusting and creepy in my whole life. And that thing's inside my _house_…"

There was a loud thud from upstairs, followed by another, as if someone was trying to break down one of the doors. Lisa looked up nervously, half expecting the zombie to come crashing down through the ceiling.

"Any zombies out there, Jack?" said Lisa.

"No," he said, turning away from the window. "Coast be clear as crystal."

"Good. I don't want to stay here another second. We're out of here!"

A splintering crash above them indicated that the zombie had just succeeding in breaking down the Hartleys' bathroom door. With a panicky squeak, Lisa grabbed Jack's hand and pulled him right out of the room, down the hall and out through the front door before he even had chance to protest.

"You know," said Lisa, as they went down the street, "If you'd told me two weeks ago that I'd be leaving home at sixteen, I would have laughed in your face. Funny how the world works."

"It ain't funny at all," said Jack, frowning.

"I meant funny as in weird, not funny as in "ha ha", Jack," said Lisa.

"I know that. I mean the world sucks. Why'd my aunt have to die? An' my mama? An' why my dad gotta be in prison? Why can the world no just leave me alone for once?" he said angrily.

Lisa didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet until they'd turned the corner and crossed over to the next street.

"Lise?" said Jack.

"Yes?"

"I forget to say happy birthday. Although I get the impression it ain't a real happy birthday an' it prob'ly gonna get much worse."

"True. But it'll be the happiest birthday of my life if we manage to get out of here alive. I hope my parents are okay."

"I sure they be fine," said Jack, although privately he doubted it.

"I hope you're right," said Lisa.

"Only one way to find out," said Jack. "We gotta get to Umbrella fast."


	16. Self Defence

****

16: Self-Defence

Just a few short weeks ago, Lisa and Jack would not have been in the least bit worried about walking through the centre of Raccoon City. Now the familiar streets seemed darker, narrower, filled with menace and shadows, and they found themselves instinctively walking a little closer together.

"You scared?" said Jack.

Lisa nodded silently. She thought she'd scream if she opened her mouth to speak. Her thoughts kept slipping back to her parents; where were they? Were they alive? Dead? Or both? She didn't know, and part of her was afraid of finding out what had happened to them.

"I be scared too," said Jack. "I get the feelin' we gonna run into more zombies soon. You think I oughta get more bullets, case we do?"

"Yes," said Lisa. "Where can we get them?"

"I think there be a gun shop somewhere near here," said Jack. "Yeah – look."

Lisa looked. Tucked in between a general store and a boutique was a little shop with its barred windows displaying a variety of lethal-looking replica shotguns. The sign above the door read: "Abel's Ammo – Est. 1952 - We Aim To Please."

"Sounds good," said Lisa. "Come to think of it, I'd like to have my own gun. I'd feel better knowing I can defend myself. I don't want you to have to watch my back as well as your own."

"Okay," said Jack. "We can grab a few things for you if you want."

When they went inside, however, it turned out that other people had grabbed a few things of their own – or to be more precise, they'd ransacked the place. Every one of the glass display cases had been smashed open and the shelves of the shop were bare save for a few empty boxes of bullets.

"Oh, man," groaned Jack. "Damn looters already trash the place! Now what we gonna do?"

"Try the back room," suggested Lisa.

"Right," agreed Jack.

He tried the door handle; as he'd expected, the door was locked.

"There should be a key round here somewhere," said Lisa, going round to the other side of the counter and searching the drawers.

She found a set of keys in the bottom drawer, and was about to tell Jack when she heard a loud crash – Jack had shoulder-charged his way through the door.

"Jack! What do you think keys are for?" she said.

"I think they be for other people," Jack replied, going into the back room.

Lisa shook her head.

"Well, the charges sure are piling up against us," she said to the world in general. "Homicide, illegal possession of firearms, attempted theft, criminal damage… the police are going to _love_ us. I just hope my mom doesn't find out about this."

"Lise, we be in a city full of flesh-eatin' zombies," called Jack from the other room. "Somehow I dunt think normal rules apply any more. Come help me look through these boxes, yeah?"

Lisa nodded, and went into the back room to help Jack search through the piles of crates and boxes. Most of them were empty, but one of the large piles yielded a nasty surprise – underneath the boxes was the still-warm body of the storekeeper, with a bullet wound in his head.

"Whoa!" yelled Jack, backing away. "Get away from him, Lise! He could be a zombie!"

To Jack's horror, Lisa prodded the corpse with her foot, and then kicked it as hard as she dared. The body didn't move.

"No, it's all right," said Lisa after a moment's silence. "He's dead. Really dead. Looks like he blew his brains out. Which means that there has to be a gun around here somewhere..."

There was a handgun lying on the ground a few feet away from the body. Lisa picked it up, and examined it.

"Hmm," she said. "It's loaded, anyway. Do you think I should take it? I mean, this isn't, like, corpse-robbing or anything, is it?"

"Nah," said Jack. "I dunt think so. B'sides, he ain't gonna use it no more. You might as well take it. It no like he gonna miss it, right? Hell, he prob'ly be pleased to think he be able to help someone after he be dead."

"I still don't like it," said Lisa uncertainly.

"You keep thinkin' like that, Lise, you never gonna survive," said Jack. "You wanna get outta town alive? You gotta be more ruthless. You be a real sweet girl, but you gotta learn how to be cold-hearted so you can escape."

"The old "kill or be killed" thing, right?" said Lisa.

"Exactly," said Jack.

Further searching turned up two more boxes of bullets, and nothing else.

"I think that's it," said Lisa.

"You be right. C'mon, we gotta go. It be half past two already, an' I wanna be outta Raccoon City b'fore it get dark."

"You and me both," Lisa agreed. "Those zombies are bad enough in daylight – can you imagine running into one of those things at night? I'd never be able to sleep again."

"Me? I be content if I stay alive long enough to worry 'bout bad dreams," said Jack.

----------

Glass crunched underfoot as Jack and Lisa made their way up Main Street. The centre of Raccoon City was in ruins; windows smashed, doors ripped violently from doorframes, cars wrecked, and fires blazing everywhere. It looked as though an angry mob had marched through the city centre, destroying everything in its path.

"What happened here?" said Lisa in amazement, as they looked at the devastation all around them.

"Zombies, I think," said Jack, pointing to a corpse lying in the gutter.

"Zombies don't start fires," said Lisa. "And I'm pretty sure they don't carry off the television sets from the electrical goods store, either. I guess people were looting here, too."

"Who be loco enough to bother stealin' stuff when there be zombies all over town?" said Jack.

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" said Lisa. "Come on, let's keep moving."

They passed the smouldering, burnt-out wreck of what had once been Fiorelli's Ice-Cream Parlour.

"Oh, no," said Lisa, dismayed. "I loved that place. Fiorelli's made the best toffee nut sundaes in the world. Charlotte and I used to go there all the time when we were kids."

"Yeah, I go there once," said Jack. "For Aunt Rosa's birthday. We both have banana splits an' then she take me to the movies."

He smiled briefly.

"Well, we ain't got time to reminisce," he said. "C'mon – we gotta move, or we never gonna get to Umbrella."

"You're right," said Lisa, with a sigh.

With one last look at what remained of her favourite ice-cream parlour, Lisa turned away and followed Jack. As they moved away from the muted roar of the fires consuming most of Main Street, they were met with an eerie silence; everything seemed unnaturally still and quiet.

"Is it me, or is it far too quiet?" said Lisa after a while.

"Yeah," said Jack darkly. "I dunt like it. When I run through here on my way to you house, the place be crawlin' with zombies. Where they all go?"

There was a loud thud, and they both jumped. There was another thud, then another, accompanied by the aimless groaning sounds that they now identified as the cries of zombies. It was coming from one of the barricades, just feet away from them, and the makeshift fence was swaying alarmingly as the zombies on the other side hurled themselves at it.

"Why can I no just keep my mouth shut?" said Jack.

Lisa's eyes widened.

"Uh, Jack?" she said, starting to back away from the fence. "I think you should get away from there…"

"What?"

Without warning, the barricade gave way. Jack looked up, yelped, and dived out of the way just in time as the wooden fence came crashing down, just where he'd been standing.

"Jack, look out!" shrieked Lisa, as one of the zombies made a grab for Jack.

Rotting hands snatched at empty air as Jack scrambled to his feet and rushed over to Lisa, away from the shuffling, putrefying things that had once been people.

Jack fumbled in the pockets of his cargo pants for his gun, then remembered – too late – that he'd put it in his backpack. He cursed his stupidity; why, when he needed to keep it close at all times, had he put his only means of effective defence in his backpack?

As he dropped to his knees, threw the backpack on the ground and started scrabbling frantically inside it for the gun, he heard shots; Lisa was putting her own gun to good use. A zombie that looked a little like Antonio caught three bullets in the chest, and staggered slightly, but recovered and kept stumbling towards him.

"That's three times I shot it!" yelled Lisa. "It should be on the floor by now! Why won't they stop? Why won't they _die_?"

"They already be dead," said Jack distantly.

One of the zombies hit the floor, blood pouring from a bullet-wound in its head; Lisa had finally succeeded in killing one.

"Yes!" whooped Lisa.

It was a small victory – there were four more zombies to deal with – but Lisa didn't feel so frightened any more. Whatever these things were, at least they weren't invulnerable; they could be killed.

"Jack, we can beat these things!" Lisa cried. "Look, I got one of them!"

But her triumph soon turned to horror and disbelief as the zombie she'd shot abruptly raised its head, got up, and started moving towards them again.

"No!" Lisa yelled. "No! That's impossible! I killed it! I shot it _dead_!"

"No dead enough!" said Jack.

He finally found the gun, caught up in one of his spare shirts, and pointed it at the zombie that Lisa had been trying to kill.

"Eat this, zombie boy!" Jack snarled, and fired.

The bullet hissed past the zombie's ear and hit a red barrel that had until recently been part of the barricade.

"Oh sh - " began Jack, and then everything went white as an explosion rocked the street.

Coughing, Jack got to his feet again, just in time to see body parts rain down from the sky. The explosion had obliterated the zombies – the question was, had it obliterated Lisa too?

"Lise!" he yelled.

As the smoke from the explosion cleared, he saw Lisa half-sitting, half-lying on the ground several feet away from where she'd originally been standing. She was shaking, but mercifully uninjured by the blast.

"My God, Jack, what did you _do_?" she said at last.

"I dunt know," said Jack. "I try an' hit a zombie, I hit a barrel instead – next thin' I know, boom! Half the street blow up."

"Almost taking us with it," said Lisa.

"Sorry, Lise. You no be hurt?" Jack asked.

"No, I'm not hurt, although I may require therapy for this in later life," said Lisa, as Jack helped her to her feet. "That is, if I last long enough to _have_ any later life."

"Listen, I already say I be sorry," said Jack. "How I know it gonna blow up? I no even be aimin' for the barrel!"

"Forget it," said Lisa. "We're both fine, and the zombies are dead. End of story, as far as I'm concerned. Just don't shoot any more barrels."

"Believe me, I ain't gonna," said Jack fervently.


	17. The Pact

****

17: The Pact

"I'm hungry," said Lisa suddenly.

"Not hungry like the zombies," she added hastily, seeing Jack's horrified expression. "I mean normal hungry."

"You wanna stop for a minute?" said Jack.

"No," said Lisa immediately. "We have to find my parents."

"When you last eat?" said Jack.

"Just before I went to bed last night. About eight," said Lisa.

"You better stop an' eat somethin'," said Jack. "You gonna be ill if you dunt."

"There's no time!" Lisa insisted. We have to find my parents! They could be in trouble!"

"You mama an' dad both be doctors, right?" said Jack.

"Right," said Lisa. "They used to work at the hospital. Mom was a pathologist and Dad worked in the research department. He specialised in the study of bacteria and viruses."

"Then they be smart enough to take care of theyselves. An' if they be here, they prob'ly tell you that you gotta take care of youself. If they be in trouble, you no can help 'em if you be ill 'cause you ain't eaten," said Jack firmly. "Now you sit youself down an' you eat. You want some chocolate?"

Lisa gave in.

"All right," she said reluctantly. "But I'll eat it while I'm walking."

"No," said Jack. "You sit down an' rest. My feet hurt an' you feet prob'ly be hurtin' too. We got a long way to walk, Lise. It ain't so far normally, but now there be barricades everywhere an' they be too high to climb. We gotta find a way round 'em, an' it gonna take a while longer to get there."

"How much longer?" said Lisa, her heart sinking.

"Maybe an hour. I dunt know exactly," said Jack.

Lisa groaned.

"We're _never_ going to get there," she sighed.

"Sure we gonna," said Jack, trying to sound more optimistic than he felt. "Might take us a little while longer, but we get there in the end. Dunt you worry 'bout it. Now eat you chocolate. Think I gonna have some too."

They both sat down.

"This never happens in the video games," said Lisa, unwrapping a chocolate bar. "You don't get the Super Mario Brothers stopping for lunch, or Lara Croft wishing she'd gone to the bathroom before she left."

"Yeah, but this ain't no video game," said Jack. "This be real. It no be like those _Bad Neighbourhood_ games, where Jane Sweetheart can keep goin' for days with no food or sleep, an' even though the evil Parasol Company's Z-Virus infect people an' turn 'em into zombies in a few hours, it take three days before Jane even start lookin' ill, an' Miguel got plenty of time to get the antidote from Gopherville Hospital an' cure her. By all rights she oughta be dead by the time he get back. An' if anyone no eat for three days they faint all over the place, an' if they dunt sleep they start hallucinatin' an' stuff, then they die. Everybody knows that."

They finished their chocolate bars in silence.

"Better?" said Jack.

Lisa nodded.

"Let's go," she said.

----------

There was a broken fire hydrant in the next street. Water sprayed everywhere, gushing over the road and sidewalk, collecting in puddles and running down the drain in little streams.

Just visible through the mist of water droplets was a girl, no more than about six or seven years old. She was bending over what looked like a body.

"Hey, kid!" called Jack. "You okay?"

The little girl stood up, and turned around wordlessly. Only then did they see the bloodstained clothes and hair, the mouth smeared with red, the blind milky-white eyes.

"Uhhh…" said the little girl, and she started lurching towards them.

It occurred to Jack that he was wrong about the zombies; they didn't amble aimlessly around. Quite the opposite, in fact. They were slow, clumsy, and walked unsteadily, as if the brain was no longer in control of the body, but they were definitely after something. And that something was food.

The thing that drove them forward, the thing that kept them going, was the desire to feed on living flesh and blood. Jack, however, had no intention of letting them feed on _his_ flesh and blood.

_Let 'em try_, he thought angrily. _Just let 'em try_. _I kill 'em all if they come near me or Lise_.

Then Jack took a long look at the little girl, who was still stumbling erratically towards them, and was suddenly overwhelmed with pity. She was so young – she'd probably been playing with her Barbie dolls this time last week. And now she was dead. Seven years old, and her life was already over.

_That be then_, Jack told himself. _Now she be a zombie. She gotta die_.

He didn't want to kill her. But what else could he do? There weren't many other options that didn't involve them both dying grisly and painful deaths.

Very reluctantly, Jack took aim.

"Jack, _no_!" shrieked Lisa. "You can't! She's a little girl!"

"Yeah," said Jack, as patiently as he could manage. "She prob'ly be a little girl once, but now she be a zombie. An' she be headin' straight for us."

"Yes, but – oh, Jack, you _can't_! You just can't!" Lisa wailed.

"You think I _want_ to shoot her?" yelled Jack. "I dunt! But I gotta! It be her or us! You wanna die, Lise?"

That made Lisa think. Of course she didn't want to die. Not here. Not now. Certainly not like this. And when you got right down to it, the little girl was already dead. Maybe they'd be doing her a favour.

Her. Or them. Lisa chose.

"I don't want to die," she said quietly.

"Good choice," said Jack, and fired. At least, he tried to; the gun was empty. His aunt must have thought that she wouldn't ever need to use more than one bullet.

"Oh, no…" said Jack, searching his pockets for a spare box of bullets.

"Wait a minute," said Lisa. "Isn't there any way we can run past her?"

"No, there ain't room," said Jack. "No with the fire truck blockin' the rest of the street."

The cause of the broken fire hydrant was a fire truck, which had careered into a building and was now ablaze. On its way into the wall, the fire truck had hit the hydrant and dented it so badly that the metal had split open – hence the fountain of water spurting out of the hydrant and flooding the street.

"There be no other way outta the street," continued Jack, taking a few steps backwards – the little girl was moving further towards them. He found the bullets, and took the box out of his pocket.

"We no can go back, 'cause then we gotta find another way through town, an' I ain't sure how long that gonna take… ah, crap!"

The box had turned out to be full of spent handgun bullets. Jack threw it aside in frustration, and he and Lisa backed away from the zombie until they came up against a brick wall.

"Jack," said Lisa suddenly, "Can she actually _see_ us?"

"Dunt think so," said Jack. "Look at her eyes. She look like she be blind. They all got eyes like that. They can hear us, yeah, an' I think they got a good sense of smell, but I dunt think they can see us."

"Good," said Lisa.

"Why?" said Jack.

Lisa said nothing; she just grabbed Jack's hand, and stayed still. The little girl was just a few feet away now, and getting closer.

"Uh, Lise? Maybe we oughta move out the way?" said Jack nervously.

Lisa shook her head.

"Lise, she be gettin' real close now," said Jack, even more nervously.

Again, Lisa shook her head.

"Lise…" said Jack urgently, tugging at her hand, but Lisa held on even tighter, forcing him to stay where he was as the zombie girl approached.

"The hell you doin'?" he yelled. "You gonna get us both killed!"

"No I'm not," said Lisa under her breath. "Just wait…"

Now the dead girl was almost close enough to touch, if either of them had felt the need to do so. The unmistakeable odour of decaying corpses wafted towards Jack and Lisa as the little girl raised her arms, preparing to grab hold of her next victim.

At the very last minute, Lisa moved quickly and soundlessly aside, pulling Jack with her. Unable to see that her prey were no longer in front of her, the zombie slammed into the brick wall.

As the zombie girl, knocked out by the collision, fell lifelessly to the ground, Jack and Lisa took the opportunity to run for it. They didn't stop running until they'd put three whole streets between themselves and the zombie.

"Oh, jeez…" gasped Jack. "That be _way_ too close. Dunt do that 'gain, Lise."

"Sorry," said Lisa. "But we got past her, right?"

"Yeah, but… whew. You oughta feel my heart. It be beatin' like it wanna get out. I never be so 'fraid in my life. I thought she gonna get us back there."

"You never see that in the movies, do you?" said Lisa. "Zombie kids, I mean. You see all the grown-ups turn into zombies, and it's pretty scary, but there are never any zombie kids. Why?"

"Too disturbin', I guess," said Jack. "It disturb the hell outta me, that be for sure, seein' some cute little kid tryin' to eat people alive. An' I think people prob'ly would complain if they ever see kids bein' shot by the heroes in a movie, y'know? Even if they be zombie kids."

Lisa nodded. Jack was right; zombie children were far more frightening than adult zombies. Childhood was meant to be a time of innocence, and seeing children engaging in something as appalling and horrific as cannibalism was – well, calling it disturbing was probably the understatement of the year. It was _evil_. There was no other word for it.

She shuddered at the memory of the zombie child. The image of the little girl, rotting and covered in blood, stuck between life and death, was one that was going to keep her awake for a long time to come.

Someone had once said that the eyes were the windows of the soul. There had been nothing in those white, dead eyes at all. Where was the little girl's soul? Did she still have one? Had it left her and gone to wherever souls went after death, or was it still trapped somewhere inside her dead body? She sincerely hoped it was the former. The other possibility didn't even bear thinking about.

"Jack?" said Lisa. "If anything happens to me, I want you to kill me."

"What?" Jack gasped.

"I don't want to end up like that poor little girl," said Lisa. "If I fall down dead, promise me you won't let me get up again."

"But Lise - " he began.

"Please," she said softly. "Promise me."

There was a long, long pause.

"I promise," said Jack eventually.

"Thank you," said Lisa.

"I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to you, Lise. Dunt you worry 'bout that," Jack told her. "But if it all go wrong an' I no can save you, then yeah. I kill you. Then I kill myself."

"What? No! Jack, you mustn't do that! If anything happens to me, I want you to get out of town!" protested Lisa.

"I ain't leavin' without you," said Jack firmly. "An' that be that. Where you go, I go. You live, I live. You die – I die too. I dunt wanna be alive if you be dead. There be no point if you ain't gonna be there."

Despite the nature of their conversation, Lisa was touched. No-one had ever said that they'd die for her before, or that life without her wasn't worth living. And what was more, he meant it. She knew instinctively that if anything bad happened to her, he would be only too willing to take his own life. One thing she'd learned about Jack was that he never said anything that he didn't mean. She'd never known anyone as open and sincere as him. It scared her sometimes.

But then, so did the prospect of a life without Jack. What would happen if he died, and she and her parents managed to escape? They'd probably just go on living the way they had before. Different house, different school, different town - same old story. Her parents would find an identical job somewhere else and spend all their time working, too busy to pay her any attention. She'd be put in another school just like Raccoon High, and integrate with the usual crowd of giggling, gossiping, shallow, insipid, boring blonde girls. She'd spend each day and night alone in a big, beautiful house that would always be tidy because no-one really lived there. No Jack to keep her company, to brighten up her day and make her smile, to make her feel wanted and appreciated. He'd be dead, and she'd spend every moment of her life wishing that she was dead too.

"All right. And if you don't make it out alive, then I won't either," said Lisa. "We leave together, or not at all."

"But it ain't gonna come to that, Lise," said Jack solemnly. "We gonna be okay, Lise. We gonna make it."

"Not if we stand around making suicide pacts all day," said Lisa. "We need to keep moving if we're going to get out of town by nightfall. It's nearly half past three now. We've only got a few hours to get to Umbrella HQ, find my parents, and find a way out of town."

"Tell me 'bout it," said Jack. "Can I reload first, though?"

"Yes, please do. And for God's sake, keep your ammo to hand in future. Put your bullets in your pockets so you can actually get hold of them when you need them. They're no good to you if they're in your backpack and you can't reach them."

Jack was quick to follow her advice.

"There," he said. "An' I ain't gonna be so damn stupid next time."

"It's okay, Jack," said Lisa. "People do stupid stuff when they're scared. Like one time when I was a kid, I dreamed there was a monster in my house, right at the foot of the stairs, and I could see it walking across the hall. I woke up and I was so terrified that I didn't want to go back to sleep in case I had another nightmare, but I was too scared to cross the landing and go into my parents' room just in case the monster really was at the bottom of the stairs and I saw it as I went past. I was so frightened, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was horrible."

"As bad as this?" said Jack.

"No. Not nearly as bad as this. You can't die in your dreams. And at least I could wake up from that nightmare. This time I'm awake and I'm still seeing monsters," said Lisa. "And my parents won't come running if I scream."

_I will_, thought Jack, fighting a terrible urge to say it aloud. _'Cause I love you. I never gonna let anythin' bad happen to you. I promise._

"Well, let's move," said Lisa.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Which way now?"

"That way," said Lisa, pointing.

They turned right, and then stopped dead. It wasn't the corpse lying in the middle of the road that worried them, but what was feeding on it.

"Oh no," gasped Lisa. This was worse than zombies. Much worse…


	18. The Hounds Of Hell

****

18: The Hounds Of Hell

Dogs.

Three snarling, slavering, hunger-crazed Dobermans, tearing savagely at the dead man's flesh, their jaws dripping with blood and specked with rabid foam. Like the zombies, their eyes were a blank greyish-white, and they looked like something straight out of Hell.

"Maybe we shoulda gone the other way," said Jack quietly.

"I think you're right. Quick, let's go before they notice us."

One of the dogs stopped eating. Very slowly, it raised its head. A growl started in the back of its throat, low and menacing at first, then it rose in volume and pitch and became an angry snarl.

"Uh-oh," said Jack quietly. "We be in trouble…"

The other two dogs looked up at the sound of the growls, and stepped over the body. Never mind a stiffening corpse, they'd seen something _far_ more interesting to eat…

Jack and Lisa took several steps backwards as the dogs moved forward.

"Uh, nice doggy? Good doggy?" ventured Jack.

The first dog snarled again.

"I don't think that's going to work, Jack," said Lisa, trembling with fear. She didn't like dogs even at the best of times. And this was most definitely not the best of times.

Still snarling, the first dog leapt.

"Run!" yelled Jack.

Lisa didn't need to be told twice. She broke into a run, and Jack did the same. So, unfortunately, did the dogs. She could hear the relentless pad, pad, pad of paws on asphalt, a noise that seemed to be getting closer with every heartbeat.

She didn't look back. Nothing that she could see, not even zombie dogs, could possibly make her run any faster, and there was always the danger that if she didn't look where she was going, she might trip and fall. And then, without a doubt, the dogs would get her.

Lisa's muscles were already starting to ache, a reminder of how hopelessly out of condition she really was. She had been skipping gym class for years, denouncing it as a waste of time and calories – after all, she didn't need to lose weight, her figure was exactly right, and besides, exercise was _boring_.

She wished someone had told her that she might need to run away from zombie dogs some day… suddenly gym class seemed like an attractive prospect. Although _anything_ was better than being chased by zombie dogs.

Jack, however, was still going strong. He didn't like gym class either, but he _did_ like skating and playing basketball with the Street Rats, and he'd run away to avoid Lisa's parents so often that running was practically second nature. Jack was in good shape, and he could run much further and faster than Lisa could. He was already far ahead of her.

Then he stopped. When Lisa caught him up, she saw why. Right in front of them was a barricade. They were trapped, and almost certainly doomed. She felt like sobbing.

"Now what?" yelled Lisa.

"I gonna shoot 'em! You might wanna do the same!" Jack yelled back.

"You think that'll work?"

"You think we got a choice?"

One of the dogs leapt, but Jack managed to shoot it in mid-air; the dog gave a yelp and fell to the ground, blood pouring from a head wound. It didn't get up again.

There were still two dogs left, and they were getting closer. Jack was running out of bullets, and Lisa was already halfway through emptying her gun into a second zombie dog. Despite being riddled with bullets, the dog showed no signs of stopping, or even slowing down.

Jack glanced quickly at the barricade. No way through – no way around. Was there any way over? It was higher than their heads, but was it too high to climb? There was only one way to find out.

"We gotta climb over the barricade!" he shouted to Lisa.

"What?" shrieked Lisa. "Are you insane? It's too high! And we don't know what's on the other side!"

"It no can be worse than this!" shouted Jack. "C'mon, I help you up!"

Lisa ran over to him, and Jack helped her climb onto his shoulders. She was surprisingly heavy for someone so petite, but he ignored the weight.

"Hurry up!" he yelled. "They be comin' fast!"

Panicking, Lisa stood up and grabbed the top of the barricade, pulling herself up and scrambling over. She jumped down – and she was safe. There were no dogs or zombies or other monsters in sight.

"Jack!" she called. "It's safe, come on!"

Jack had forgotten exactly how he was going to get over a barricade that was taller than he was. There was no-one to give him a boost. Thankfully he was taller than Lisa. Could he reach the top if he jumped? The other option was being eaten alive by blood-crazed zombie Dobermans, and he had no intention of dying young if another alternative presented itself.

The dogs hurled themselves at Jack, but they were too late; Jack had already leapt up and was hanging onto the top of the barricade by his fingertips. He hauled himself up, kicking out at one dog as it snapped at his heels, and pulled himself over the barricade.

He lost his balance as he tried to get down, and fell to the ground with a bone-rattling thud, but he was so relieved to be alive and out of immediate danger that he didn't care.

"Are you all right?" said Lisa, helping him up.

"Well, the dogs dint get me," said Jack. "So yeah. I guess I be okay."

There was a loud thud as the two remaining dogs threw themselves frantically at the barricade, trying to break through, but without success - the barricade held firm.

"They can't jump over, can they?" said Lisa worriedly.

"Nah, too high. Even zombie dogs no could jump as high as that," said Jack, although he was wondering too. Could the dogs possibly get over the barricade? He didn't want to stick around and find out.

"Let's get out of here, just in case," said Lisa.

Jack nodded gratefully. He'd been thinking exactly the same thing.

----------

This had once been a very nice part of town, with lots of little shops and French-style cafes. Now it was a mess, barely recognisable as a street. It was the usual story – ruined buildings, burnt-out wrecks, crashed cars and shattered glass, fires burning everywhere. But, as yet, there were no zombies.

_What's happened to our town_? thought Lisa. _It was so nice until the zombies came. Why are there zombies in Raccoon City? Where did they come from? And why is this happening to us?_

Raccoon City had been a nice place to live once. Calm, peaceful, affluent, attractive, with everyone happily living out their lives, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to their little town. Now Raccoon City was a place of fire and blood and broken glass, the air heavy with smoke and the stench of death, the wind carrying the distant cries of the wandering dead to the ears of those who were still alive to hear.

"I hate this," said Lisa. There was a whole mix of emotions in her voice – anger, fear, bitterness, sorrow, anxiety, and simple distaste for their current situation – but no particular tone of voice prevailed. Even so, something in her voice told Jack that something was wrong.

"You okay?" said Jack, concerned.

_No, I'm not_, Lisa wanted to say._ It's cold and getting dark and my town is in ruins, I don't know where Mom and Dad are and I'm scared of the monsters and I want to go home but I can't, I can't ever go home again, and I'll never sleep again because every time I close my eyes I'll see that little girl, or those dogs chasing us, and I think I'm falling in love with you, but I can't ever say in case we find my parents and we escape and my parents take me away from you and it breaks our hearts…_

"Fine," Lisa lied. "Just a bit cold."

Without a moment's hesitation, Jack took off his shirt and put it around Lisa's shoulders.

"Jack, this is your shirt," Lisa protested.

"I got other shirts," said Jack, shrugging off his backpack and pulling out a spare shirt. "You have that one, it be nice an' warm 'cause I been wearin' it. Look, I wear this one instead. B'sides, I already got a T-shirt on. You only got that pretty red top, an' you gonna freeze when it start gettin' dark. I dunt want you to catch cold."

Lisa felt guilty for accepting it, even though she knew Jack was right. He had his T-shirt – plain white, and maybe a little too tight, but it looked good on him – and he now had one of his spare shirts on, worn open as always. She only had her strappy red top, an old favourite of hers, and she was indeed cold.

"Keep the shirt if you want," Jack offered. "It look good on you."

Lisa had to admit that it did. The shirt was white with a navy check pattern, which went well with navy jeans and her red top, and it smelled nice; it was the musky scent of warm skin, with a hint of the aftershave that she'd bought Jack for his birthday. It was a bit too big for her, but she didn't mind – it was comforting as well as comfortable, a bit like being held by Jack even when they were standing apart.

"Mmm," said Lisa, wrapping herself up in the shirt. "I like this shirt. Thanks, Jack. This is really comfy."

"Hey, no problem," said Jack. "Glad I can help. You need anythin' else, you just say, right?"

The sound of a piece of debris falling into a fire made them both jump, and that brought all the depression and fear flooding back into Lisa's heart and mind.

"Well, I could do with a hug," said Lisa.

It had been a joke, but Jack didn't realise it. He just went over to Lisa and hugged her, taking her completely by surprise.

Lisa was about to tell him it was only a joke, but then it struck her that for the first time that day, she felt safe. So she returned the hug without saying a word, and clung on tightly to Jack, the one good thing left in a world full of evil.

Until the first zombie report had appeared in the papers, Lisa and Jack had always thought that the world was a relatively safe place, where things like zombies only existed in video games. But now that world had collapsed around them, leaving them both frightened and alone, surrounded by danger. There was no guarantee that they would make it out of the city alive, but they had to hope. Hope was all they had left. That, and each other.


	19. The Car

****

19: The Car

"Not _another_ barricade," groaned Lisa.

It was four o'clock, and they were still nowhere near the Umbrella headquarters. They'd run into barricade after barricade – those tall blue wooden constructions seemed to be everywhere, and there was no avoiding them. Finding alternative routes hadn't worked. Whenever they started to think they'd found another way through the city, they'd run into yet another dead end.

So Jack and Lisa decided to do what they'd done before, when they were escaping from the dogs – climb over the barricades. This, however, was difficult and tiring now that they were no longer motivated by terror, and the exertion was beginning to take its toll on them both.

"There has to be a better way than this," Lisa panted, as Jack helped her climb up yet another barricade.

"Like what?" said Jack, watching Lisa clamber over the top and drop out of sight.

"Well," said Lisa, from the other side of the barrier, "We could break through them or something, like in the movies."

"Yeah? What with?" said Jack, starting to climb up.

"Oh, I don't know – a car, or something," said Lisa, waving her hand in the general direction of some battered cars lining the street.

Jack laughed.

"I don't hear _you_ coming up with any better ideas," said Lisa, slightly annoyed.

"Hey, I ain't sayin' it ain't a good idea," said Jack, and jumped down. "I just wonderin' where we gonna get a car from. An' even if we get one, I dunt know how to drive."

"Whoever said anything about you driving?" said Lisa, raising an eyebrow.

"You know how to drive?" said Jack, surprised.

"Uh-huh. My dad taught me last year, in between being at work and being asleep," said Lisa. "Don't look so surprised. I am actually good for something, you know. I'm not the kind of girl who spends all her time either standing around doing nothing or screaming helplessly while the hero rushes to save her. I can drive, and I know First Aid, and lots of useful stuff like that. I can even kill monsters."

Jack was about to say "what about the zombie kid", but decided against it. He couldn't be bothered to argue with her; he was too tired. His feet hurt, he ached all over, and the prospect of travelling quickly and in comfort was fast becoming attractive.

"Okay. So we drive – well, you drive. Now we gotta find a car that ain't bust," said Jack.

This was easier said than done. Most of the cars were either complete wrecks or, not to put too fine a point on it, still occupied. Neither of them fancied being in a car when the previous owner was not only previous, but still in the car and decomposing quietly. Or, worse, suddenly opening eyes that had turned white and trying to rip their throats out.

"Hey, how 'bout this one?" said Jack, calling Lisa over to look at one of the cars.

Lisa knew next to nothing about cars, but she liked this one. It was a sleek, shiny black convertible, stylish and virtually undamaged. There was just one problem – the owner was still strapped into the front seat.

"Nice car," said Lisa. "Shame about the driver."

"Yeah," said Jack. "He be 'bout to lose his nice new car."

"Jack!" said Lisa, appalled. "You can't just throw him out of the seat and drive off! What about respect for the dead?"

"What 'bout it?" said Jack.

"Um, you're meant to _have_ some?" Lisa prompted.

"Hey, I got plenty of respect for dead people," said Jack reasonably. "Take this guy – I respect him fine. But we need this car more than he do right now. Hell, _he_ ain't gonna drive it."

He saw Lisa's expression, and sighed.

"Look, if it bother you, then maybe I ask him nice if he let us borrow it, yeah?" he said sarcastically.

"I don't think he can hear you any more, Jack. He's dead. You won't get a reply no matter how loud you shout," said Lisa.

Jack ignored her.

"Hey, buddy?" he said to the dead man. "Can we borrow you car?"

Silence.

"Well, I dunt hear any objections," said Jack. "C'mon, give me a hand with him. We leave him on the sidewalk."

They opened the car door, unbuckled the driver's seatbelt, and picked up the deceased driver.

"Just when I think I know you, Jack," sighed Lisa. "One minute you're all thoughtful and considerate, asking if I'm all right and lending me shirts when I'm cold, and the next minute you're talking me into stealing cars and dumping bodies out onto the sidewalk."

"Welcome to my world," said Jack simply.

They were just about to lower the body to the ground when the dead driver's eyes suddenly shot open; he wasn't quite as dead as he first appeared.

"Unnngh," he groaned, and as Jack dropped him, he tried to sink his teeth into Jack's leg.

"Not on your afterlife, buddy!" yelled Lisa, and shot the zombie driver five times in quick succession before Jack even had chance to react.

The zombie fell over, and Lisa hurled herself into the driver's seat, yelling at Jack to get in – which he did, with extreme alacrity.

"Drive!" yelled Jack.

"I can't!" said Lisa. "There's no key… oh God, where's the key? Where is it?"

She began searching desperately for the car key, ripping open the glove compartment and pulling out its contents, then searching on the floor, under the seat, anywhere that the key might have fallen.

"I can't find it!" she wailed. "The key's gone! That guy must still have it… oh, God! We're going to die!"

"Hotwire the car!" suggested Jack.

"What? I don't know how to do _that_!" screamed Lisa.

"Fine, then I do it," said Jack.

"You know how to hotwire a car?" said Lisa.

"No, but I seen it plenty of times on TV," said Jack. "Like in that movie the other day – the cartoon one with all the dogs an' that little ginger kitten."

"Tell me you're not talking about "Oliver and Company"," groaned Lisa.

"Yeah, that be it," said Jack.

"So what you're telling me is that you once saw a cartoon domesticated animal attempt it in a Disney movie, and you're about to use this valuable learning experience to perform a very risky and completely illegal procedure in a life-or-death situation?" said Lisa.

"Uh-huh."

Lisa buried her face in her hands.

"We're going to die," she said glumly. "Jack, you know _nothing_ about hotwiring cars!"

"Then I better learn pretty damn fast. Now shut up, move over an' cover me while I figure out how to do this!" yelled Jack.

Subdued, and more than a little surprised – Jack had never told her to shut up before – Lisa moved out of the way. The zombie, she noticed, was struggling to its feet again. Didn't these things ever give up?

Well, they couldn't be invulnerable. They might be difficult to kill, and persistent, but there had to be some point at which the zombies would finally give up the ghost. And she intended to find it.

There was a zap, a sizzle and some muffled swearing behind her. Lisa ignored it, keeping her eye on the zombie the whole time. It was getting too close for her liking.

"All right, that's far enough! Don't move!" yelled Lisa, aware even as the words escaped her lips that yelling at the zombie was a complete waste of breath. Did she honestly think that it would stop just because she _told_ it to?

Lisa's hands shook slightly, her gun dancing a nervous figure-of-eight in the air as she tried to steady her nerves and take aim.

_Please hurry, Jack,_ she said silently. _I don't want to kill if I can avoid it - monster or no monster._

_So it's okay for Jack to kill a monster, but not for you, _said a scornful little part of her brain. _What makes you so special?_

_I don't want to be a killer,_ thought Lisa.

_So that makes it okay to pass all the responsibility onto Jack, does it? Blood's okay as long as it's on someone else's hands? You're pathetic, Lisa Hartley._

No, no –

What's wrong? Too scared to get your hands dirty, uptown girl? Or maybe you're just not up to the job?

No, Lisa told herself. _I can do this. I'm no helpless bimbo who's terrified of everything and always needing to be rescued. I once hit a zombie so hard its head came off – I can look after myself. And Jack too, if necessary._

So pull the trigger already. _Jack's counting on you to watch his back. He needs you, Lisa. Don't let him down._

"I won't," said Lisa under her breath.

She pulled the trigger – once, twice, and again a third time. Yet again she was astonished at how resilient the zombies were – this one was absorbing bullet after bullet with barely a pause or a wobble.

Time to reload again. Desperately hoping that the next shot would be the one that killed the zombie once and for all, Lisa refilled the gun, dropping some of the bullets on the floor in her haste.

"Come on, Jack!" she cried, but it came out all wrong, sounding impatient and angry at his inability to start the car.

"I be _tryin'_!" Jack snapped. "I never do this b'fore, Lise! Who you think I be, James Bond?"

"Graaaah…" said the zombie, raising its arms.

"I'll give you "graaaah!", you dead jerk!" Lisa screamed, and began firing anew.

Still the zombie carried on, unhampered by bullet wounds or lack of higher brain function.

"Get away!" yelled Lisa, still firing frantically at the zombie.

But it wouldn't stop, or draw back. It was coming closer now, so close that she could feel the all-pervading stench of rotting bodies enveloping her like a poisonous cloud.

The zombie's decaying fingers reached out towards her, ready to claw at her skin, to grab her and tear her apart with its fingernails and yellowing teeth. There was no stopping it…

Lisa opened her mouth, ready to scream, and then the car engine unexpectedly roared into life.

"Got it!" yelled Jack.

Rejoicing at this answer to her prayers, Lisa ducked away from the zombie's fingers and quickly traded places with Jack. He didn't seem too happy about exchanging the driver's seat for a seat just inches away from a hungry zombie, but this wasn't a problem for very long.

Lisa slammed her foot down on the accelerator, and the car sped away – backwards, as it turned out. The car was still in reverse gear, just as its former owner had left it while parking his car for the last time. Lisa remedied matters instantly, turned the car around, and drove off as fast as she could.

They were soon far away from the zombie, and Lisa felt her heart and breathing slow to their normal rate as the terror dwindled away. She and Jack were safe – for now, at least.

Jack sat back in his seat, and looked around with interest at his new, comfortable surroundings.

"Hey, nice," he said. "This thing got a CD player?"

Lisa started to laugh.

"What?" said Jack.

"We barely got away with our lives back there, and now you're asking if our means of escape has a CD player? You're crazy!" she said.

Jack looked downcast.

"But I like you," Lisa added, and that made him smile.

"I love - " Jack began, and once again his courage failed him at the last moment.

"What?" said Lisa, genuinely curious.

Jack wanted to say the last word – you – but he couldn't say it aloud, no matter how hard he tried.

"I love… the way you drive," he finished lamely. "You drive like you been doin' it you whole life."

"Thanks," said Lisa, pleased by the compliment but feeling vaguely disappointed that he hadn't ended the sentence another way.

They drove on. It wasn't long before another of the barricades came into view, but hopefully, thought Lisa, barricades would no longer present a problem.

"It seem a real shame to bust a nice car like this," said Jack regretfully.

"Jack, the whole reason we're driving a car is to break through the barricades," said Lisa, although secretly she agreed with him.

"Okay," said Jack, with a note of reluctance in his voice. "Step on it, Lise."

"Here we go," said Lisa, and put her foot down.

Tyres screeching, the car zoomed towards the barricade. They were just about to hit it –

"Get down!" yelled Lisa, and she and Jack ducked just in time as the car burst through the blockade with an almighty crash, sending bits of plank and splintered wood flying everywhere.

They both raised their heads cautiously. The car was continuing on its journey at full speed, and they both appeared to be alive and well. But as Jack opened his eyes, he noticed something else. On their way through the barricades, they appeared to have picked up another passenger.

"Aaaargh!" yelled Jack.

"What's the matter, Jack?" Lisa asked him.

Jack pointed wordlessly ahead. Lisa looked, and screamed; there was a zombie lying on the hood of the car, pressed up against the windscreen.

"Unnngh," it moaned.

Jack and Lisa both screamed, and Lisa swerved sharply. Luckily for them both, the zombie wasn't expecting this, and was thrown right off the car. It landed on the road somewhere behind them.

"Nice one," said Jack weakly.

"Thanks," said Lisa, wondering how many more nasty surprises she could take before she finally went insane with terror. She and Jack had no idea that the horrors they'd already seen were only the tip of the iceberg, and that the worst was yet to come…


	20. An Extra Passenger

**20: An Extra Passenger**

Most people in Amber Bernstein's situation would have been a gibbering, terrified mass of post-traumatic stress disorder by now.

She'd spent the past few days trapped inside the police station with her fellow police officers, desperately trying to keep the zombies out. But they'd found a way inside in the end, and her colleagues had been slaughtered before her eyes; she'd barely escaped with her life.

As if that wasn't horror enough, Amber had also run into her younger brother, Jason, and found him chewing on the limp form of Sid Ziegler, the former owner and proprietor of a downtown record store.

A bullet through the head had granted her poor brother the mercy of death. Hopefully he could now rest in peace.

In spite of all this, Amber wasn't frightened. She'd been through fear and come out of the other side. She was nervous – she'd have to be crazy not to be nervous – but she wasn't frightened.

After a recent run-in with a group of zombies, she'd discovered a valuable piece of information. You didn't need more than one bullet to kill a zombie, as long as your aim was perfect.

And her aim _was_ perfect. She'd come second in the Raccoon Police Department's Annual Marksmanship Contest, very narrowly beaten by Chris Redfield, one of the STARS members.

There was just one zombie left now. The others lay dead, twitching slightly as their blood dyed the asphalt a darker shade of black. Amber's aim had, as always, been spot-on, so there was no chance of them getting up again. Just one zombie left; it wouldn't be difficult to take it down.

Only one problem remained. She was out of bullets.

And _now_ she was frightened…

xxxxxxxxxx

"Now where?" said Jack.

"This way, I think," said Lisa.

She turned right and drove down a long street, most of which was on fire. There was another barricade at the end, and they ducked automatically as they broke through it.

Zombies flashed past their eyes, gone in an instant as the car passed them by. Somehow they didn't seem like so much of a threat any more. In fact, Lisa was just starting to calm down a little –

_Hissssssssssssssss!_

Lisa nearly jumped out of her skin. At first she couldn't figure out what the noise was, and then she saw that Jack had turned on the radio. It was tuned to local radio but Raccoon FM was broadcasting only static, possibly because no-one was left alive to run the station.

"It bring a whole new meanin' to the words "dead air", dunt it," Jack commented.

"Turn it off," said Lisa. To her, the noise of the static was an unpleasant reminder of what had happened, not just to the people at the radio station, but to everyone else in town as well.

"Can I put the CD player on?" said Jack.

"If you must," Lisa sighed. "As long as it's not some lame boy band. I hate boy bands."

"Yeah, they suck," Jack agreed. "They all sound the same. It be me, or you think they use the same kind of song over again? It be either "I wanna be with you", "I be with you" or "I ain't with you no more"."

"That's very true," said Lisa. "And their songs are so sweet and bland and boring as hell. They're all so darn _wholesome, _it makes me sick – there's absolutely no violence, profanity, or unpleasantness of any kind. Not that a song has to have that stuff to be a good song, of course," she added hastily. "But it sure livens things up a little, don't you think?"

Jack looked amused – and, Lisa suddenly thought, very sexy indeed.

She quickly broke off eye contact and turned away, ashamed of herself. She kept her eyes firmly on the road as she tried to shut out all the forbidden thoughts that she knew she shouldn't be having about her best friend.

_Wow. He really does have beautiful blue eyes – shut_ _up, Lisa, shut up now, you're meant to be concentrating on getting out of this town alive, not wondering if your best friend is possible boyfriend material! Get a grip, girl…_

They drove on in silence. Minutes passed.

"I thought you wanted to put some music on," said Lisa.

"Oh, yeah," said Jack, suddenly remembering. "I forget all 'bout it. I be too busy tryin' not to laugh at what you say 'bout boy bands. I always think you uptown girls like that kind of junk, so you kind of take me by surprise when you say you hate it."

"Well, I'm not like all the other girls," said Lisa.

"I know," said Jack. "I notice. You ain't just another Calvin Klone, some dumb blonde in expensive clothes who pretend to be pretty. You dunt _need_ to pretend."

And that brought a smile to Lisa's face. How could she keep herself from smiling, when he was being so utterly charming? It was amazing how someone so nice could turn into a ruthless zombie-killer who was willing to do whatever it took to survive.

_That's Jack for you_, Lisa thought. _As sweet as anything, but when we're in danger he suddenly turns into one of those tough guys you see in the movies. It must be a guy thing. What is it with guys and danger, anyway? They're either reduced to nervous wrecks or they turn into Action Man. Crazy. I'll never understand guys, as long as I live…_

Jack turned on the CD player and grinned as heavy metal music issued from the speakers.

"Cannibal Corpse," said Lisa instantly. "Very appropriate."

"You like metal?" said Jack, only a little surprised.

"Sure. Better than boy bands. My mom hates it, but it's not like she's home that much anyway," said Lisa. "And - "

There was a bloodcurdling shriek ahead of them. Jack and Lisa looked up sharply, and saw a young woman being attacked by a zombie. It hadn't bitten her yet, but she was struggling to escape from its clutches.

"Hey!" Lisa yelled.

The zombie turned its head to look at the oncoming car, and let go of the young woman, who immediately dived out of the way. The zombie gave a groan, and tottered towards the car…

xxxxxxxxxx

When Amber looked up, she saw that the black convertible had come to a complete stop. The zombie, she noticed, was no longer a problem. It was dead. She didn't think that being hit by a car would be enough to kill it, but the zombie had fallen to the ground and landed awkwardly, and its neck had broken. A quick death. There were worse ends than that.

Amber gradually became aware that the car's occupants were whispering furiously.

"She be a cop."

"Yes? And?"

"I hate cops."

"Why?"

"You be arrested twice for no damn reason, an' you no would like 'em either. Plus we be drivin' a stolen car without a licence, we just hit somethin', we got guns an' we be breakin' the speed limit. She prob'ly gonna arrest us or somethin'."

"Don't be absurd. Who's she going to report us to? Everyone at the police station's probably either dead or zombified. Besides, she might be useful to have around."

Amber couldn't believe that they thought she'd arrest them; now, when the dead were walking the streets and feasting on the flesh of the living. Under these circumstances, arresting them was not only pointless but terminally stupid, when her only chance of escape now rested in their hands.

She got to her feet, silently thanking the world for helping her out for once, and went over to the car. The whispering stopped instantly, and both of the car's occupants looked up.

After three years in the police force, Amber had a tendency to look at people and mentally take down their details, as if she was composing an incident report in her head. The suspects in this case were both juveniles – one white male, aged sixteen, medium build, about 5'9", blond hair, blue eyes; one white female, also aged sixteen, slightly built, 5'3" or thereabouts, long dark hair, brown eyes.

_Guilty of car theft, driving without a licence, possession of unlicensed firearms, exceeding the speed limit, and having committed at least one hit-and-run offence. But right now, well, quite frankly I don't care if they shot JR. I just hope they'll help me…_

"Need a ride?" said the girl.

"Yes, please," said Amber quickly.

"Hop in."

xxxxxxxxxx

Lisa glanced back at the woman sitting in the car. She was young and quite pretty, with long strawberry-blonde curls and green eyes. She wasn't much good at telling people's ages, but guessed that the young woman was about twenty-four or twenty-five.

"So who are you, anyway?" Lisa asked her.

"Lieutenant Amber Bernstein, RPD. You?"

"Lisa Hartley. And this is my friend Jack Carpenter."

"Jack Carpenter? I've heard that name before," said Amber.

Jack scowled.

"Yeah. You people arrest me twice already."

"Why? What did you do?" said Amber.

"Nothin'. It just that I be a skater an' _los verdes_ be too lazy to go an' find anyone to arrest, so they pick on us instead. We skaters make easy targets. Easier than real bad guys," said Jack, with a snort.

"I have to agree with you there," said Amber. "Most of the clans don't give much trouble, but the Chief doesn't see it that way. He hates skaters, I mean _really_ hates them, and the gang wars were just the excuse he needed to start picking on them. Man, that guy's a creep. I hate him. He's a complete pervert. He's always leering at the female officers, and he actually tried to pinch my ass once. Can you believe that? I told him if he ever pinched my ass again then I'd sue his. And he has seriously odd taste in art. The pieces he's been buying recently totally freak me out. Like in the storeroom behind the briefing room, there's this horrible painting over the fireplace, of a nude being hanged. I don't know who's more screwed-up, the artist for painting it or the Chief for buying it."

"What a weirdo," said Jack.

"And that's not the half of it. He's into taxidermy as well. You know, stuffed animals? You should see his office. And he doesn't just buy them, he does his own too," said Amber.

"Eeew," said Lisa, making a face. "That's gross."

"Tell me about it," said Amber. "I think he's dead now, though. Someone said he was after a few zombie heads to hang on his office wall. He was tangling with a bunch of them when I saw him last."

"I wouldn't give much for his chances, then," said Lisa.

"Me either," said Amber. "By the way, where are we going? If you want to get out of town, you're going the wrong way."

"I know," said Lisa.

"And we're going this way because… why?" said Amber.

"We're not leaving town without my parents," said Lisa. "They're scientists and they work for Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Incorporated. We're going over to Umbrella's headquarters to look for them before we leave."

"Umbrella, huh?" said Amber. "I'd quite like to take a look around myself."

"Why?" said Jack.

"Because they're up to something," said Amber darkly. "And I know they've got something to do with the zombies."

"What? But they make medicine an' stuff, dunt they?" said Jack, looking bewildered. "How they be connected with zombies?"

"Do you remember the newspaper reports a few months back? About the attacks in Raccoon Forest?" said Amber.

"Yeah, I remember," said Jack.

"The STARS squad were sent in to check it out. I expect you heard the stories about what they found."

Jack nodded. He remembered the article that Marco had read out to the rest of the Street Rats, the day that Valerio died:

"_This is, of course, a ridiculous rumour that the Mayor an' RPD have been tryin' to quash ever since August, when the RPD's STARS squad returned from an assignment claimin' that zombies were loose in Raccoon Forest an' that they had been created by a virus in a secret mansion laboratory belongin' to the pharmaceuticals giant Umbrella Incorporated."_

"A secret mansion lab or somethin'," he said.

"That's right. A mansion laboratory up in the Arklay mountains. Full of monsters. Zombies and giant snakes and killer plants and all sorts of dreadful creatures. And do you know how those things got there?"

"Some kind of a virus, right?" said Jack.

"Right. The T-Virus. Turns living creatures into undead, mutated monsters. And Umbrella created it."

"That's crazy," said Lisa, frowning. "Umbrella just makes vaccines and medicines and things like that. They don't make _diseases_! That's just a stupid rumour."

"And I'm the Bride of Frankenstein," said Amber shortly. "Stupid rumours don't wipe out half the STARS team, kid. My best friend was on the STARS Alpha Team, and she and the other survivors have _proof_. Documents. Photographs. I know for a fact that Umbrella has been experimenting with bioweapons and genetic technology since the Sixties. I've seen the evidence with my own eyes. Unfortunately I was the only one in the police force who believed Jill and the others. Everyone else dismissed it as some kind of crazy hoax."

"Why not you?" said Lisa.

"Because I've been doing a little research of my own into the Arklay mansion incident. And what the STARS team said checks out."

"So how come no-one believed them?"

"Umbrella employs a _lot_ of people from this town, Lisa. No-one wanted to believe them. And big companies have a lot of influence. Umbrella practically _runs_ this town. Yesterday I found out that the Chief of Police has been taking bribes from Umbrella, which might explain why he ordered me to call "case closed" on the Arklay incident. I didn't, of course."

"Why not?"

"My boyfriend Joseph was on the STARS Alpha Team too. He never came back from that assignment."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Jill and the other survivors were worried about what might happen if the T-Virus ever got loose. That's why they tried to bring down Umbrella. Look around you. See the zombies? That "mystery virus" they talked about on TV is the T-Virus, and look what it's done to this town."

Lisa nodded. Amber was right. The evidence was everywhere. People had turned into zombies after becoming infected with a mysterious virus. And there had been zombies in the mansion where a virus had been created. The two had to be linked. Maybe the STARS members weren't as crazy as people said they were…

"That's why Umbrella has to be stopped. This can't be allowed to happen again," Amber finished.

"Why would it happen again?" said Lisa.

"Like I said, I've being doing some research these past few weeks," said Amber. "And Umbrella are up to something. They're working on some new project that's going to make the T-Virus look like the common cold - as if they haven't done enough damage already."

Lisa suddenly recalled what the mysterious caller had said:

"_Dr Hartley, the L-Project is dangerous. You have to end it now_. _I don't care what the others say. If it isn't stopped, it'll destroy everything_."

The L-Project. Was that what Umbrella was working on now? What was it? And how were her parents involved?

"So you want to find out what Umbrella have got hidden in their headquarters?" said Lisa.

"Damn right," said Amber. "I promised the STARS survivors that I'd help them take out Umbrella if it was the last thing I ever did. Whatever they're doing now, I'm going to find out what it is and put a stop to it."

"Me too," said Jack suddenly. "My aunt die 'cause of that T-Virus. She prob'ly be walkin' round town eatin' people's brains an' stuff, an' I wanna find out whose fault it be."

"What about you, Lisa?" said Amber.

"Yes. I want to know why my parents have been so busy at work lately. I'd quite like to find out just what my mom and dad do for a living…" said Lisa grimly.


	21. And Two More

****

21: And Two More

"Hey, look," said Jack, spotting something.

"What?" said Lisa.

"Over there," said Jack. "By the side of the road."

Slumped against a mailbox, clutching her side, was a soldier. Kneeling beside her was another soldier, also female, trying to administer to her comrade's wounds.

"We have to help them," said Lisa, and stopped the car.

"No, don't," hissed Amber. "Did you see the insignia on their shirt-sleeves and berets? They're with Umbrella! Part of the UBCS if I'm not mistaken."

"What's the UBCS?"

"Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. Mostly made up of exiles and war criminals from dodgy parts of the world. They're mercenaries, paid to fight for Umbrella and do their dirty work."

"Dirty work?" said Lisa.

"Yeah. They clean up the mess if one of Umbrella's bioweapon experiments screws up and their creations start attacking people. I've also heard that they sometimes carry out assassinations on Umbrella's behalf, although I haven't been able to prove it," said Amber. "The UBCS are the scum of the earth. Almost as bad as the people who pay them."

"Okay, so they're not nice, but we should still help them," said Lisa. "After all, we helped you, and as you may have noticed Jack isn't overly fond of cops."

"The police force isn't with a company that secretly and illegally experiments with bio-organic weapons!" Amber said indignantly.

"Your Chief of Police is," replied Lisa. "Didn't you say he took bribes from Umbrella?"

Amber fell silent.

"There you are then. Amber, they may be bad people, but _we're_ not. We're going to help them," said Lisa.

"All right, you've made your point," Amber grumbled. "But no more picking up survivors. There's barely enough room for us. Any more and they'll have to go in the trunk."

Lisa got out of the car and hurried over to the two mercenaries. The uninjured soldier looked up at her approach.

"I don't know what _fool_ thought that leaving red barrels filled with explosive substances around town was a good idea," she said. "A stray bullet hit one of the barrels when we were fighting zombies, and it exploded. She was injured by flying shrapnel. Do you have a first aid kit? Our medic was killed in the fighting."

"Are there any more of you?" said Lisa.

"A few. Lieutenant Victor, Sergeant Ginovaef, Corporal Oliveira. I don't know where they are. We got cut off from the rest of our unit. We've been searching for them for some time."

The other soldier groaned.

"Christina… is there any more morphine?"

"I can't give you any more," said the first soldier. "You know that. It's too dangerous."

"It hurts…"

"I know, but I can't do anything about it. You'll just have to put up with it."

Lisa leaned over to take a closer look at the injured woman. There was a deep gash in her side, but how deep, she couldn't tell. There was too much blood.

"Is it safe to move her?" Lisa asked.

"Safer than leaving her here to die. In the UBCS we don't like leaving fallen comrades behind. An old tradition. Like the Navy SEALS."

"Come with us," said Lisa. "We've got a first-aid kit, we might be able to help."

"You're heading straight out of town, I presume?"

"Not yet. We have to go to Umbrella HQ first."

"Umbrella. Hmm. But why?"

"My parents work there. I don't know if they're still alive, but I have to look for them. I'm not leaving Raccoon City until I find them."

"Going to HQ might prove advantageous. Perhaps we'll find the rest of our team there. If not, they have radio equipment in the control tower; we might be able to contact them. Yes, we'll come with you."

"Good. Hey, Jack, get over here and give us a hand!" called Lisa.

"No, I can carry her," said the mercenary, picking up her colleague. "If I wasn't strong I wouldn't be a soldier."

"What are soldiers doing here in Raccoon City?" Lisa asked.

"We were sent here to look for survivors," explained the second mercenary, from the arms of the other. "To help them escape… quite ironic that the survivors find us and we end up needing _their_ help."

"I guess," said Lisa. "If you two want to sit in the back, we can get out of here."

The second mercenary raised her head slightly as they got to the convertible – it was looking slightly the worse for wear, but still stylish.

"Nice car," she said admiringly.

The first mercenary shook her head. "Impractical," she said. "You don't have the protection of a solid roof over your head, to shield you from falling debris when you run through barricades. And if you hit a zombie travelling at full speed, you end up with it sailing over your heads and landing right in the laps of whoever's sitting in the back. I would have chosen a truck, myself."

"Yes, well, there was a slight shortage of trucks," said Lisa petulantly. "We had to take what we could get."

"I suppose the boy chose this one?" said the first mercenary, nodding towards Jack.

"Yes."

"I thought so. When I see a sports car with heavy metal music in the CD player and a pretty girl driving, I see the choice of a typical adolescent male," said the woman coolly. "They're all the same, teenage boys. All balls and no brains."

"Hey!" said Jack and Lisa, both outraged at the casual insult.

"Rule number one… never complain about the appearance of an escape vehicle," said the second mercenary. "We're fortunate to _have_ an escape vehicle. Stop being so ungrateful."

"I'm not being ungrateful. I'm being rational."

"You're being a complete bitch."

"That's _Corporal_ Complete Bitch to you, Private."

"Speaking of which, who are you anyway?" said Lisa, as the first soldier helped her comrade into the back of the car.

"Corporal Christina Ardizzone, Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service," she replied. "And this is my esteemed colleague, Private Renée Lavelle."

"Hi," said Renée, with a grimace of pain as she sat down.

"Hi yourself," said Amber, who didn't look too impressed.

"Now be nice, Amber," said Lisa sternly. "Well, Corporal, Private, I'm Lisa Hartley, this is my friend Jack Carpenter, and your new buddy in the back - "

"Huh," said Amber.

"- is Lieutenant Amber Bernstein of the RPD," said Lisa, glaring at Amber. "And if the representative of our friendly local police force doesn't _like_ soldiers, then that's just tough. She's just going to have to be nice and polite about it."

"Polite, my ass," muttered Amber.

"For a police officer, you're surprisingly tactless," said Lisa. "Listen, Amber, liking soldiers is not compulsory. I can't make you like them, or vice versa, and even if I could, we don't have time to sit in a circle and play and learn how to be friends. We don't _need_ to be friends. But we _do_ need to work together if we're going to get out of here alive. And if anyone in this car doesn't like it, well, they've got feet; they can walk the rest of the way. Got that?"

"Yes," chorused the three women in the back, Amber scowling the whole time.

"Good. Let's move."

"How about that first aid kit?" called Renée. "I'm bleeding pretty badly."

"Yeah," said Amber, looking down in disgust. "All over me, too. Move _over_, will you? I don't want your blood all over my uniform. It's dirty enough without random mercenaries bleeding to death all over it."

"It sound like somebody feel like walkin'," called Jack. "Play nice, kids."

He tossed the first aid kit back to Christina.

"Thanks," she said. "Right, lie down. Let's take a look at you."

Renée lay down gratefully on the back seat, her head resting in Christina's lap and her army boots on Amber's.

"Do you _mind_?" said Amber irritably, pushing Renée's feet away roughly.

"Owww!" yelled Renée. "Get some compassion, will you, flatfoot?"

"Compassion? Hah! I'm not the one trained to kill people in cold blood for money, and not much money either!" said Amber.

In one snake-fast movement, Christina had gone from treating her comrade to pointing a gun right between Amber's eyes.

"Let's leave it at that, shall we?" said Christina calmly.

Amber gulped. Much as she hated Umbrella and all associated products, arguing with their military attachments probably hadn't been one of her better ideas.

"Sorry," said Amber quickly, resolving to keep her mouth shut in future.

This was acknowledged with a small, tight nod from Christina.

"Hey, what's that?" said Renée, pointing to something in the first aid kit. "That tube thing. Looks kind of like deodorant."

Christina took out a spray can, and examined the label.

"A First Aid spray. I didn't know Umbrella had started making these already."

"Yes, they just put them on the market," called Lisa. "My dad helped design those," she added, with a hint of pride.

"They don't give _us_ First Aid sprays," complained Renée. "Cheapskates."

"Amazing things, First Aid sprays," said Christina absently. "Disinfectant, natural healing agent and local anaesthetic all in one."

She sprayed some of the contents over Renée's shrapnel wound. Renée winced slightly, but said nothing. Christina put the First Aid spray back in the medicine kit, and bandaged the wound.

"There," she said finally. "We'll fix you up properly once we get back to base."  
  
----------

Lisa was right, thought Amber later. _Liking soldiers isn't compulsory. And she can't make me like them. Well, I don't mind soldiers, but I don't like mercenaries. Especially Umbrella mercenaries._

Especially Corporal Ardizzone. The woman with long, sleek blonde hair and blue eyes irritated the hell out of her. She was striking, but it was a severe, glacial beauty; there was no warmth in the eyes, no hint of a smile, and her features, although perfect, were just a little too sharp. As for the way she behaved; well, she was a regular ice queen. Cold and hard and a "complete bitch", as Renée so aptly put it. And pointing a gun at her head hadn't exactly endeared her to Amber.

Private Lavelle she didn't mind so much. She was the complete opposite of her supposedly superior officer - a brown-eyed girl with dark, cropped hair, and a rather more cheerful demeanour now that she was no longer in pain. And, as it happened, she had quite a sense of humour.

"Well, Jack," said Renée, "You're a lucky man."

"What d'you mean?" said Jack.

"You're in a car with four beautiful women. I'd call that pretty lucky."

"Yeah, I guess. But three of them be too old for me."

"Well, you know what they say about older women…" Renée laughed.

"Yeah," said Jack, grinning. "They got wrinkles."

Renée burst out laughing, and so did Lisa. Even Amber couldn't stop herself from smiling. But Christina did nothing more than raise her eyebrows slightly.

"That's _not_ what she meant," she said.

"Hey, lady, I _know_ what she mean," said Jack. "I spend the past ten years of my life livin' with an aunt in that line of business. Trust me. I know plenty."

"I'll bet you do, darling," said Renée, winking at him.

That remark had earned her a sharp look from Lisa. There was definitely something going on between Lisa and Jack, Amber decided, although they both refused to admit it.

"So are you two together, then?" Renée asked Lisa and Jack.

Jack and Lisa glanced at each other.

"No," said Lisa, after a pause. "Just friends."

_Yeah, right_, thought Amber. _If you're just friends, then explain the look of pure evil that you threw at Renée when she winked at him. That's a "hands off my man" look if ever I saw one_.

"Really?" said Renée. "Then how come -?"

There was a muffled bang from somewhere in the depths of the car, and it rolled to a halt.

"Oh, no. You gotta be kiddin'," groaned Jack. "We break down? _Now_? I no can believe this…"

"It's like some kind of sick joke," said Lisa, staring in shock at the dashboard. She thought she was going to break down and cry. Things had just been starting to look up – they'd got a car, there were no monsters around, they were finally making progress towards Umbrella's headquarters, and now they'd broken down. Was this ordeal never going to end?

"Don't panic," said Amber hastily. "It's okay. I'm good with cars. Let me take a look."

Amber climbed out of the back and went round to open up the hood. She jumped backwards as steam hissed out from some unseen crevice of the engine.

"That's not a good sign," said Renée glumly.

"You're telling me," said Amber, waving away the clouds of steam and bending towards the engine for a closer look.

Joseph had been good with cars; he'd been the STARS Alpha Team's vehicle specialist, and he'd taught her a few things about fixing cars. Now what had he said about this sort of situation?

_If there's clouds of steam pouring out of your engine, it's probably time to get another car_.

_Great_, she thought. _Thanks a lot, Joe. You can't even help me from beyond the grave. Oh, where are you when I need you? Stupid question. You're dead. Why did you have to leave me, Joe? Why did you have to die? I know you used to drive me crazy sometimes, but I loved you so much._

Amber sighed, and tried to focus on the source of the problem.

_Why couldn't you have come back from that mission? I wish you had. Maybe then we'd be safe in some other town by now, and I'd be watching you watch the football. You always did love football. Or maybe we'd be at the movies, or eating out somewhere, or maybe we'd just be walking. I used to love walking with you, Joe, just you and me, talking about everything and nothing and just enjoying being together. I'd give anything to walk with you again, just one more time. I wish you were here now. I need you. I miss you. And you're not here._

Amber swore as she caught her finger on a red-hot piece of metal.

Joe. My Joe. They took you away from me. But I won't let them get away with it. I'll make them pay. I promise. I'll get them. I'll get them if it kills me.

"Amber!" Lisa shrieked.

Amber jumped, and whacked her head on the underside of the hood.

"Ow!" she yelled. "What's the matter now?"

It was then that she heard the cawing overhead. She looked up, just in time to see a flock of crows descend from nowhere.

Jack and Lisa were the first to react. They remembered the reports about the man who was attacked by crows, and since the man was now dead, they decided instantly that sticking around was not a good idea.

They leapt out of the car, screaming at Amber, Renée and Christina to follow them. Christina got to her feet immediately, running after them without a second thought for her wounded colleague.

_So much for not leaving a wounded comrade behind_, thought Amber. _Heartless bitch_.

Amber briefly contemplated leaving Renée there to fend for herself. But that was what Christina had done. And she sure as hell wasn't Christina. Lisa was right once again: _They may be bad people, but _we're_ not. We're going to help them._

Amber rushed to the back of the car and took Renée's hand.

"Come on, let's go," said Amber hurriedly, helping her up and out of the car.

"Thank you," gasped Renée.

"Don't mention it," said Amber. "Just run, okay?"

They ran. Screeching crows swooped down from the sky like avenging angels and pursued them.

Bang! Feathers rained down as one of the zombie crows was blown right of the sky by means of Renée's handgun. Two more of the infernal birds met their end in the same manner, but there were just too many to shoot. There were dozens, _hundreds_ of crows, impossible to fight off.

"Forget it! There's too many of them!" yelled Amber. "Just run!"

Renée reached the same conclusion. She abandoned the fight and ran.

"Where we runnin' to?" yelled Jack.

"Never mind _to_, just concentrate on what we're running _from_!" Amber yelled back.

In the middle of the road, surrounded by construction barriers and hastily downed tools, was an open manhole.

"Get in, quickly! We can take cover in the sewers," ordered Christina.

Renée climbed into the manhole first, at Lisa and Amber's insistence. Amber followed, just as a cloud of black, flapping, feathered death engulfed the other three.

Christina was shooting at the crows, and Lisa was beating away the feathered fiends with her backpack, screaming defiance. They were succeeding for now, but it was only a matter of time before the crows would get them.

"Forget this," said Christina. "It's pointless. Just get in."

"But - " protested Lisa.

"_Now_!"

Jack had just climbed into the hole and was trying to find a foothold on the slippery rungs of the ladder that led into the sewers. Losing patience, Christina stepped on his fingers.

With a yell, Jack lost his grip and plunged into the blackness. Christina grabbed Lisa by the shoulders and threw her in after him, ignoring the younger girl's screams. She climbed in herself, pulled the manhole cover over the hole so that the crows couldn't follow them in, and dropped down into the utter darkness of the sewers.


	22. Eight Legged Freaks

****

22: Eight-Legged Freaks

The first thing that Lisa heard when she opened her eyes again was the sound of running water. She couldn't see a thing – the sewer tunnel was pitch black. But she could hear the rushing sound of the sewer water and the insistent drip, drip of moisture from the tunnel roof.

The next thing that hit her was the cold. The air underground was damp and chilly, and she was sitting in knee-deep, icy cold sewer water. Which brought her to the next thing; the smell.

It _stank_ down here. She expected that it was the sewer water. The sewer water that she happened to be… sitting in…

"Ugh!" Lisa shrieked, standing up suddenly. Her hair, her clothes – all drenched in disgusting, smelly sewer water. "Oh my God, this is _vile_! I _stink_!"

"Better smelly than dead."

Christina's voice came from nowhere. As Lisa's eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, she could just make out the faint outline of someone standing in front of her.

"I'm not sure about that," said Lisa. "It smells awful down here."

"Well, if our young and pretty heroine wants to go upstairs and sing a duet with sweet little Mister Bluebird, then the ladder's right above your head, girl," said Christina. "Oh, wait, did I say Mister Bluebird? I meant a horde of vicious zombie crows that want to peck you to death. Although if you still think this is preferable to getting your nice clothes all dirty, then you're welcome to try that instead."

"Something tells me she isn't going to take up _that_ particular invitation," called Renée, from somewhere further up the tunnel.

"You bet I'm not. I hate being dirty, but I'm more worried about dying. If I turn into a zombie I'll smell even worse than I do now. At least I can wash my clothes when we leave town," said Lisa.

"That's the spirit," said Renée encouragingly. "Dirt is preferable to death."

"Only just," said Lisa, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "This is gross."

"Yeah, I know. It stinks down here," said Renée. "But hey, it could be worse, right? I mean, there could be snakes in here with us or something."

Something hissed in the darkness.

"_Why_ did you have to say that?" said Lisa miserably.

"Quiet," ordered Christina.

Nothing except the rushing of the sewer water and the plink of water dripping from the ceiling. Both noises were curiously amplified by the tunnel's echoes.

A splash near Amber's leg made her look down. It was a pretty pointless action, as she couldn't really see anything in the dark. But then she felt something slither past her ankle, and she leapt backwards with a cry.

"What? What is it?" said Renée.

"Something just slithered past my leg!" said Amber.

"Can't be any snakes down here," said Renée. "Forget all the stuff you hear about toilet snakes, it's mostly made up."

"Mostly?" said Amber.

"Well, yes. It happens sometimes, but not often," said Renée.

"I'd be very surprised if that was a snake," said Christina.

"What was it, then?" said Amber.

"Probably leeches," said Christina, with a little shrug.

"_Leeches_?"

"Yes, leeches. Not a problem. Easily outrun. Keep moving and you'll be fine."

"So if those were leeches…" began Amber.

"Yes?"

"What made that hissing sound?"

Dead silence. Except for one little noise:

Click. Click. Click.

"What's that?" said Lisa.

"I don't know, but I don't intend to stick around and find out," said Amber. "Let's go before whatever it is suddenly jumps out at us."

"I agree," said Christina. "Come on, let's move. We can get to Umbrella Headquarters from here if we take a shortcut through the sewage plant."

"Sewage plant?" said Lisa, faintly disgusted at the prospect. "Gross."

"Not as gross as being eaten alive, you silly girl. Now come on. The sewage plant is this way."

"Which way is this way?" said Lisa. "I can't see. It's too dark."

"I've got a torch somewhere, I think," said Renée, feeling for one of the pockets in her utility belt. "Yes, here we are. Catch."

Renée turned on the torch, and threw it to the younger girl. Lisa caught it, and panned it over her surroundings as they walked on. Brick walls, glistening with moisture. Mud-coloured water. Christina, looking immaculate even here in the sewers. Renée, squinting a little as she tried to see in the dim light. Amber, damp and dishevelled and looking distinctly uneasy.

And then there was Jack, pale and wide-eyed in the gloom. He too was soaked from head to toe, and he looked considerably less than happy to be standing in the sewers in the dark. In fact, he looked positively terrified.

"Jack, what's the matter?" Lisa asked him. "I know it's bad down here, but it can't be that bad, right?"

Jack took a step backwards, then a few more. He tried to speak, but he couldn't get the words out.

"What?" said Lisa.

Trembling all over, Jack tried once more to speak.

"L – Lise…" he managed to say, and pointed to something above her head.

Lisa glanced up, and immediately wished that she hadn't. Hanging just a few feet above her head was the embodiment of every nightmare she'd ever had: a slimy, man-sized creature with patches of exposed muscle and brain, too many legs and, horror of horrors, a vaguely human-shaped head, with white eyes and sharp teeth and a long curled-up tongue like a frog's or lizard's. It was a grotesque parody of a creature, like a cross between a chameleon and a human being that had been inefficiently skinned alive.

It was hissing softly. A gasp of horror escaped Lisa's lips; while they'd been wondering if there were snakes or leeches in the sewers, that nightmare had been hanging right over their heads. The clicking sound they'd heard had been the sound of claws on brickwork.

Too terrified to scream, to move, to do _anything_, Lisa and Jack stood there and stared at the creature. It both repelled and yet fascinated them. What _was_ it? Was it an animal that had been infected with the T-Virus and mutated, or was it something altogether different?

Noticing that the two teenagers had stopped following them, Amber turned around to see where they were.

"Jack? Lisa?" she called. "We – _whoa_! _What the hell is_ _that_?"

She'd just seen the creature, and the look of absolute terror on Jack and Lisa's faces.

Renée and Christina turned around sharply to see what was going on. When they too saw what was hanging from the ceiling, Renée gave a shriek and even the ice-cool Christina looked startled for a moment.

"Don't move!" Renée yelled, reaching for the assault rifle that until now she'd kept slung on her back.

But before she could even lay hands on the weapon, Christina had whipped out a handgun in one fluid, lightning-fast movement. Without so much as a second's hesitation, she fired twice, and the creature dropped from the roof, both bullets lodged firmly in its unprotected brain. Its lifeless form landed in the water with a splash.

Silence followed. Jack and Lisa stared at the thing as blood diffused the murky sewer water, stunned by the ruthless efficiency of Christina's method of monster-disposal. She'd barely even needed to aim…

Only when they noticed their companions' raised eyebrows did Lisa and Jack realise that they were clinging on tightly to each other.

"Are you quite finished?" said Christina, hands on hips.

They released each other instantly.

"Good. Perhaps now we can move along. We haven't got all day, you know."

----------

"What _was_ that thing?" said Lisa later.

"I don't know," said Renée. "I've never seen anything like that before. And hopefully we won't see anything like it again."

"Don't count on it," said Christina. "If there's one, then there's bound to be more down here."

Jack looked terrified at the prospect.

"And you be sayin' that this be a place we should _be_?" he said.

"You prefer it up there with the crows?" said Christina sharply.

"Of course I dunt!" said Jack.

"Then put up and shut up," said Christina.

"I don't remember anyone putting _you_ in charge of this expedition," said Lisa.

"Well I hardly think _you're_ qualified to lead it," said Christina, with a sniff. "I'm a soldier, girl. You're a civilian. What do you know?"

"I know we saved your lives, not the other way around," said Lisa.

"Yes. And? What do you expect me to do, kiss your feet?"

"I'm not _expecting_ anything. But even if gratitude is completely beyond you, you could at least acknowledge that we helped you out."

"You saved us, that's true. And we just saved you. That makes us even. We don't owe you anything."

"How about a little respect?"

"When you've _earned_ our respect, I'll let you know."

Christina's eyes travelled downwards, and came to rest on the knife tucked into Jack's belt.

"Good grief. You actually thought carrying a kitchen knife in your belt was a good idea?" she sneered.

Jack looked down at the knife, then back up.

"Yeah," he said defiantly.

"Who do you think you are - Rambo?" said Christina, with a snort of contempt. "Get rid of it, for pity's sake, before you end up stabbing yourself in the leg with it. Stupid boy. Did you honestly think that a knife would do any real damage to creatures like these?"

Without a word, Jack took the knife out of his belt and discarded it. The knife landed with a splash in the water and drifted slowly away.

"Like I said," said Christina, as she walked past him. "All balls and no brains."

"Would it hurt you just to be nice for once?" snapped Lisa.

"I don't have time for nice," came the reply.

"Neither has Renée, and she still manages," Lisa retorted.

"Renée is too soft for her own good," said Christina. "A soldier shouldn't be soft."

"A soldier shouldn't be mean either," said Lisa stubbornly.

"I'm not being mean. If I was being mean, I would tell him that he's a complete idiot whose feeble attempts at both machismo and impressing you are quite frankly pitiful and, may I say it, painful to watch. I'd tell him that he wouldn't last five minutes in the UBCS, and that it's a miracle he was able to make it this far – and that's only because you were with him to stop him from doing anything terminally stupid. Finally, I would beat him to a pulp because seeing him swaggering around, pretending he's some sort of action hero, is enough to make me physically sick."

"An' you know what, _Señorita_ Ardizzone? I have just 'bout enough of you!" yelled Jack. "You be actin' like you be the smartest person on the planet an' you be right an' everyone else be wrong, or, worse, _estupido y loco_! All you do is pick on us or push us around, an' we be sick of it!"

There was a ringing silence.

"Fine," said Christina eventually. "Fine. If you think you can manage perfectly well on your own, with your pretty little girlfriend and your precious police officer, then be my guest. I'll leave you three to fend for yourselves. Private Lavelle, we're leaving."

"What about our orders?" said Renée.

"They think they can do without us and our weapons, even though they're ill-equipped and armed with nothing more than handguns, and they clearly don't want our help. I'd say all three of them were bent on suicide, myself," said Christina, with a shrug. "And if they want to stay here and die, well, that's not our problem. Leaves more room for us in the helicopter. Come on. Let's go."

Christina marched off into the dark depths of the sewer tunnels.

"Well, bye," said Renée. "Nice meeting you all. Hope you make it out of here."

"Private Lavelle! We are _leaving_!" Christina shouted.

"_Der Führer sprecht_," sighed Renée. "Well, can't argue with Frau Hitler. I'd better go with her. Good luck, you three."

"PRIVATE LAVELLE!"

"_Jawohl, mein Führer_," called Renée, and hurried away.

When the two mercenaries were out of sight and their footsteps had faded away into the distance, Amber spoke.

"Screw them," she said firmly. "Especially Christina. She thinks we can't survive without them? Well, we're going to prove her wrong. We'll make it out alive, and when we do, I'm putting that evil bitch right at the top of my Umbrella hit list. Shame about Renée, though. I was just starting to like her."

"I dint mean to yell like that," said Jack guiltily. "Sorry."

"Don't be," said Lisa. "You don't need to be, Jack. She shouldn't have been picking on you in the first place."

"She be right, though. I be a complete idiot."

"You're not," said Lisa fiercely. "You're _not_. She's a soldier; she's trained to deal with killing things. You're not. You're a civilian and you weren't prepared for waging all-out war against the undead. You're doing the best you can in difficult circumstances, and you're doing fine. Don't let her drag you down."

"So now what we gonna do?" said Jack.

"Get out of the sewers," said Amber instantly.

"What 'bout the zombie crows?" said Jack.

"We're streets away by now. There probably won't be any around when we get back up to street level," said Amber. "Besides, I prefer the possibility of crows to the certainty of more of those things with the long tongues."

"Yeah, me too," said Jack.

"Same here," said Lisa. "Which way are we going?"

"Not the way they went," said Amber. "We'll go another way. The last thing I want is to run into them again."

----------

"Perhaps we should have followed them after all," said Lisa, some time later.

"Why do you say that?" said Amber.

"Only I'm pretty sure we've already been this way," said Lisa. "I recognise that weird stuff growing on the wall."

"I don't remember that," said Amber, although she had the sinking feeling that Lisa was right once again. This stretch of tunnel did seem familiar, as if they'd already gone down it once or twice before.

"Face it," said Jack hopelessly. "We be lost."

"We're not _lost_," said Amber. "We're just… temporarily disorientated. I guess we must have taken a wrong turning."

She gave the wall a long, hard look, as if blaming it for their predicament.

"Let's go back and try the other way instead," she said. "We can't have gone too wrong…"

----------

"Okay. We're lost," admitted Amber, ten minutes later. "Damn sewers! It's like a maze down here. All these tunnels look the same, and they all link up with each other. If only we could find some way to get back up and see where in the city we are…"

Gloom settled on the three like a dark, heavy blanket.

"This be all my fault," said Jack. He sounded like he was about to cry. "If I dint make her mad, we still be with the mercs an' we still be okay… we no would be lost like we be now…"

"Jack, I already told you. It's not your fault," said Lisa. "It's Christina's fault for being mean in the first place. She shouldn't have been picking on you."

"I no should have yelled at her back."

"If she can't handle criticism from the people she dealt it out to in the first place, that's her problem. Not yours," said Amber. "That bitch! If the woman had any kind of heart she wouldn't have abandoned us down here. She _knew_ we didn't know where we were going. She probably thought we'd come running after her, begging forgiveness."

She sighed.

"Much as I hate to admit it, we need their help."

"They could be anywhere by now," said Lisa.

"I know," said Amber. "But it doesn't look like we have any other choice. We have to find them. Now stay close, and follow me."

"Why?" said Lisa. "You don't know where you're going, any more than we do. You might as well have said "Follow Jack", or "Follow Lisa", or "Follow the -" "

"SPIDERS!" Amber shrieked, pointing ahead.

"Yes, follow the spi – _what_?"

There were spiders scuttling along the ceiling. Quite large spiders, in fact. Furry and tarantula-sized – were they tarantulas? Whatever they were, they were frightening Amber into near insensibility.

"Oh God, oh God, I _hate_ spiders!" she whimpered.

"Why?" said Jack. "Ain't nothin' scary 'bout spiders."

It was a lie, of course. The spiders were very scary indeed. There was something ominous about the way they _lurked_, if it was possible for spiders to do such a thing. Occasionally a few of them would skitter backwards and forwards across the ceiling, like people pacing a room. They seemed to be waiting for something…

"Are you _kidding_?" said the chalk-faced Amber, her voice choked up with terror. "They're _spiders_! Oh please, let's just get out of here! We can go another way… please, please, _anything but spiders_!"

"There ain't another way. We gotta go this way," said Jack.

Amber burst into tears.

"Now hey," said Jack, firmly but gently. "I know you be scared, but we gotta. There ain't nobody more sorry than me for makin' you do this, but we dunt have any other choice. Least it be better than that monster with the tongue, right?"

Amber shook her head violently.

"Yes it is," said Lisa. "It's not that bad, Amber. Just calm down."

"_Calm down_?" Amber sobbed."_They're spiders_!_ I have arachnophobia_! _You do the math_!"

"Amber, cool it," Lisa ordered. "Now what I want you do is duck and walk underneath them. Can you do that?"

"But what if they drop down and get in my _hair_?" sobbed Amber.

Jack and Lisa exchanged a look of incredulity. How could a grown woman be so afraid of creatures that were so much smaller than her? They were only spiders, but Amber was reacting with more terror to them than she had done to that horrible creature with the long tongue.

"I know," said Lisa suddenly. "Put this over your head."

She took off the shirt that Jack had given her and draped it over Amber's head.

"There. If any spiders fall, they'll fall on the shirt and we can just shake them off it later," Lisa told her. "Now just take a breath and close your eyes, and duck underneath. You can do that, right? I know you can."

"No, I can't!" Amber wailed.

"Sure you can," said Jack soothingly. "It be easy. We gonna help you. We be right here - right, Lise?"

"Yes, of course," said Lisa.

"See?" said Jack. "You gonna be just fine."

"Promise?" said Amber. She suddenly sounded more like a little girl than a grown woman.

"Promise," said Jack.

He took Amber by the hand. Lisa suppressed the inexplicable urge to strike the woman dead, and took Amber's other hand, squeezing it just a little tighter than was strictly necessary.

"All you have to do is walk one little stretch of tunnel with us," said Lisa. "It's only a few feet. You can do that, right? Just close your eyes and pretend you're walking through your house."

"Apartment," said Amber faintly.

"Okay, your apartment," said Lisa. "Just pretend you're crossing the room and the ceiling's a little lower than usual. We'll make sure you don't run into any walls you didn't think you had, okay?"

"Okay," said Amber, her voice still shaking. She closed her eyes tightly.

"Right, here we go…"

The three stepped forward, and started wading through the damp tunnel. Amber was trembling from head to toe, whimpering softly all the while, and she was clutching their hands so tightly that Lisa and Jack both wondered if the bones in their hand were going to break.

"No far now, Amber," Jack reassured her. "Just a few more feet, yeah?"

Amber nodded silently, and to Lisa's relief she relaxed her grip slightly. It was just as well Amber had her eyes closed, Lisa thought; if she had seen the multitudes of spiders crawling over the walls and ceiling, both ahead of them and behind them, she would probably have had a complete nervous breakdown.

Just a few more feet… then they'd turn the corner and the spiders would be left behind. Odd, though. Why were there tarantulas in Raccoon City, and why in the sewers of all places? And why were there so _many_ of them? Lisa had never seen so many spiders in her life, especially not in one place. There were hundreds of them.

Where had they all come from? They weren't native to Raccoon City or anywhere even remotely near the town. So they must have been introduced… how? And by whom?

Looking at the spiders made Lisa's skin crawl, and she wasn't even afraid of spiders. She could only begin to imagine how Amber must feel… being in such an enclosed space, in the dark, surrounded by creatures that scared the wits out of her.

"It's all right, Amber," she said, feeling a sudden impulse to comfort the woman. "We'll be out of here soon, don't worry. A couple more steps and we'll be past them."

"You must think I'm stupid," said Amber indistinctly.

"Sorry?" said Lisa.

"Being scared of spiders. Why? They're just little creatures with lots of legs. I don't even know why I'm so afraid of them. I never used to mind them when I was a kid… then one day I saw one and screamed the place down. I've been terrified of them ever since. I'm pathetic, I know, acting like this… it must be a real pain in the ass for you. I'm really sorry."

"No, no, that's okay," said Lisa quickly, although the truth was that she'd been thinking along the same lines as Amber. "It's not your fault. Everyone gets scared. Just hang in there, right? Nearly out."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be."

"You'd be better off without me…"

"Don't be stupid. We survivors have to stick together, or we'll never get out."

"But I don't have any bullets left, and I'm scared of all these things, and I've been no help at _all_…"

"That doesn't matter. Look, Amber, even if you were the biggest pain in the ass since haemorrhoids, we wouldn't leave you here alone. If we did we'd be no better than _her_. Now quit with the self-pity before we start contemplating your advice."

"Sorry."

"That was a joke."

"Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

"Sorry."

"Hey," Jack interrupted. "That look like the last of 'em. Amber, we be goin' round a corner, 'kay?"

"Okay," said Amber, her eyes still shut.

They turned the corner as the last spider scurried away across the damp, grimy brick wall, and Amber sighed. She was relieved to be away from her worst fears, and this relief was written over her face for all to see. _From now on_, she thought, _things wouldn't be quite so bad…_

She heard Jack inhale sharply, and Lisa let out a little cry of horror.

"What?" said Amber curiously.

"Amber? Whatever you do, _don't open your eyes_," said Lisa, swallowing.

"Why not?" said Amber. "Is it bad?"

"Oh, yeah…" said Jack.

"How bad?"

"Very, _very_ bad," said Lisa.

Something in their voices triggered an alarm in Amber's head. It _had_ to be bad if they both sounded so creased-up with nervous dread.

"Not those spiders, is it?" said Amber hesitantly.

"Worse…" said Jack.

"Worse than those spiders?" said Amber. "No way."

"It is," said Lisa. "Oh, it _is_ worse."

"How?"

"Put it like this, Amber," said Lisa. "It's not _those_ spiders. It's _these_ spiders."

"What?" said Amber, feeling panic seize her heart once more.

"These ones are… well, they're bigger again," said Lisa. "Much bigger."

"How much bigger?"

"They're the size of Volkswagens."

"_What_?!" said Amber, her eyes shooting open.

"Amber, _don't open your eyes_!" Jack and Lisa shouted at the same time. But it was too late. Amber had already seen the spiders…

One was on the ceiling. One was spinning a colossal web across the mouth of another sewer tunnel. A third was resting nonchalantly on the wall. All three of them were covered in the same thick, sand-coloured hair, which turned a rusty shade at the knees, and their eyes gleamed blackly in the dim light. And they were, indeed, big. Not quite the size of Volkswagens, but the description was not too far off the mark. They were certainly big enough to make the colour drain from Amber's face, her eyes widen and her mouth drop open in shock.

It was a couple of seconds before anything else happened. Then:

"AAAAARRRRGH! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!!" Amber screamed. She wrenched her hands free from Jack and Lisa's, and ran back the same way they'd just come, still screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Amber, no! Wait!" cried Lisa, and she and Jack gave chase.

Amber bounded down the tarantula-infested passageway, her screams echoing eerily in the tunnels, punctuated by splashes as she ran through the water.

"No, Amber, come back!" Jack and Lisa called, running after her as fast as they could, but the water was impeding their progress and Amber was also much faster than they were.

They were already falling behind, and Amber had just vanished from sight when Jack stumbled and fell face-first into the stinking water.

"Jack!"

Lisa thrust both hands into the water and hauled him straight out again. Jack spluttered and gasped for breath.

"Sorry… Lise, hurry, we gotta find her!"

They started running again, calling Amber's name, but there was no reply. Even the screams had dwindled away to nothing.

"Amber!" they both yelled, as loud as they could. "_Amber_!"

No answer.

For a moment Lisa and Jack stood there in the tunnel, dripping water and shivering in the cold.

"She's gone," said Lisa after a while.

"Damn it!" yelled Jack. "Now we _never_ gonna find her 'gain! Why she gotta run off like that? She no shoulda opened her eyes! If she dint see those spiders…"

He sighed.

"Man, what a day. Just keep gettin' better an' better, dunt it? Now what?"

"You're right, anyway," said Lisa. "We'll never find her again down here. We could search for weeks and still not find her."

"So what we gonna do?"

"I guess our only choice is to keep going, and hope we find her again."

"What if we dunt?"

Lisa couldn't think of an answer to that question. She wasn't sure she _wanted_ to think of an answer. Most of them would probably involve the policewoman's death, something she didn't want to dwell on for so much as a second. Even though Amber had been a pain at times, she didn't want her to die down here. But she could be anywhere by this time, and they didn't even know where to start looking for her in the labyrinth of dark sewer tunnels. They might never find her.

There was no alternative but to carry on. It pained her greatly, but they couldn't go back to search for Amber. Their only hope was to carry on through the sewers and pray that they'd run into each other again later.

"Jack, I don't want to leave her," said Lisa. "But…"

She trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Instead she settled for:

"I wish she hadn't run off."

"Yeah," said Jack wearily. "Me too."

More silence.

Something pale was floating in the water. Jack picked it up as it drifted by; it was the shirt that he'd given Lisa. The one Amber had draped over her head to protect her from the spiders.

The sight chilled them both. The last they'd seen of it, Amber had still been holding it over her head. Had she thrown it away, or dropped it? Or even lost her grip on it as something grabbed her, dragged her away and tore her apart? It wasn't bloodstained, but that still didn't leave them much of a clue to Amber's fate.

Jack handed it to Lisa without a word. She wrung the sewer water out of the shirt, and tied it around her waist.

Once again it was just the two of them. They'd been abandoned by the very people whose lives they'd saved; they now had no choice but to face the uncertain perils of the sewers alone.


	23. So Close But So Far Away

**23: So Close But So Far Away**

Against all probability, it seemed to be getting darker in the sewers.

"How long we _been_ down here?" said Jack. "Must be at least an hour since we lose Amber."

"Two hours, actually," said Lisa, after checking her watch. "It's coming up to nine o'clock now."

"Must be dark topside," Jack commented.

Lisa nodded. She wasn't sure she wanted to leave the sewers any more, if it was dark at ground level too. They'd only be exchanging one set of horrors for another. She didn't know what was worse – zombies, dogs and crows or spiders, leeches and the things with the long tongues.

"I no can believe we been down here that long," said Jack.

"I can't believe it's taken us nine hours just to get this far," said Lisa. "Nine hours! And we're not even there yet! Normally we'd have got there in, well, an hour or two, tops."

"Yeah, but normally we dunt have to find ammo, fight zombies, run away from dogs, have to find ways round barricades, climb _over_ the barricades when _that_ dunt work, spend time tryin' to hotwire a car, rescue people, get attacked by crows, hide in the sewers, an' get lost underground for hours 'cause we dunt know where we be goin'," Jack reminded her. "All things considered, we ain't doin' too badly. An' at least - "

There was a distant rumble, and the ground started to shake.

"What the hell…?" said Jack, and pressed both hands to the low ceiling so he wouldn't be thrown off his feet. Lisa, who was shorter than Jack and couldn't quite reach the ceiling, clung onto Jack instead.

Then, as suddenly as they'd started, the tremors stopped and the rumbling died away.

"Whatever that was, I'm guessing it's not good," said Lisa, letting go of Jack. "Do you think we'd better move? I have a nasty feeling that the ground's about to give way beneath us and we're going to fall to our doom."

Jack wasn't listening. He was running his hand over the ceiling just above him, frowning a little.

"You're not _listening_," said Lisa. "I said - "

"Lise, quit gripin'," said Jack. "I think I just find us a manhole. Pass the flashlight, yeah?"

"Here," said Lisa, holding the flashlight out. "Although I don't see why you need a flashlight to open a manhole."

"I never open a manhole b'fore, 'specially not from underneath," Jack replied, taking the flashlight from Lisa's hand. "I wanna make sure I dunt spend the next ten minutes pushin' when all the time I shoulda pulled, or somethin' dumb like that."

"Fair enough," said Lisa.

As Jack struggled to open the heavy iron cover, Lisa let her thoughts wander a little.

_Well, this whole sewer thing was a complete waste of time. Yes, admittedly it got us away from the crows, but then we lost the other three somewhere. We'll probably never find them again. We don't even know if they're still alive. The mercenaries are probably fine, they've got plenty of guns and they're good at killing monsters. But Amber, well, she's all alone and scared senseless and she doesn't even have any weapons. I don't think she's going to make it out of here unless she finds Christina and Renée again. I hope she's all right… I still feel bad about leaving her._

There was a sudden rush of air – Jack had succeeded in opening the manhole.

"At last," said Lisa gratefully. "We're getting out of these lousy sewers. Anything nasty up there, Jack?"

Jack climbed up, stuck his head out of the manhole, and took a quick look around. He was relieved to see that all was quiet on the western front. There were absolutely no zombies, dogs, crows, giant spiders or any other variation on the theme of terrifying monsters to be seen anywhere.

"No," he called down, "Coast be clear."

"Right. You first."

Jack hauled himself up and out of the sewers. Lisa followed suit, keen to leave the dank, smelly sewers behind.

It was good to be out in the fresh air again. Admittedly, the air wasn't that fresh – there was a fire burning further along the street – but after the stench of the tunnels below, the smoke-filled air smelled like perfume.

"So where are we now?" said Lisa.

"Well, I ain't sure. It all look so diff'rent in the dark. But the trolley cars run past here, look," said Jack, pointing. "An' you can see the clock tower from here, too. We must be gettin' close now."

"Well, that's something, at least," said Lisa. "Umbrella's headquarters are quite close to the old hospital, and the old hospital's behind St Michael's Clock Tower. So if we can get to the clock tower from here, that's the worst part of the journey over."

She felt her spirits lift.

_We're almost there…_

"How come everythin' in town be called after Michael?" asked Jack.

"Sorry?" said Lisa, snapping out of her thoughts.

"I mean, we got St Michael Clock Tower, St Michael Catholic High where all my _amigos_ used to go, an' we got that Michael Festival this month… what be up with that?" said Jack.

"Oh, that's the Mayor's doing," said Lisa, rolling her eyes. "Mayor _Michael_ Warren. Mister Mayor has an ego the size of Arkansas, you see. I don't think any further explanation is required."

"So he name everythin' after himself? Jeez. What a poser," said Jack, disgusted. "What kind of big-headed idiot we got runnin' this town, anyway?"

"Someone who's an even bigger idiot than the people who keep voting for him in every election," said Lisa. "And don't look at me. My parents voted for the other guy. They said he was a stupid, arrogant, pompous twit who could barely get his big head to fit through doorways – but at least he wasn't as bad as Michael Warren."

"Huh. Yeah," said Jack, with a snort. "You remember the time he an' the Chief of Police try to drive all the whores outta town? My aunt dint speak English, but whenever she get real mad she always try to, like some people curse in other languages. An' boy, did she speak English to him that day!"

"What did she say?" said Lisa.

"She tell the Mayor she know every scarlet woman in town, an' she know exactly what his son be doin' every Friday night," said Jack simply. "That shut him up real good."

"I bet it did," said Lisa, repressing the urge to giggle. "Serves him right for throwing his weight around. You know what my father always used to say? "The problem with God is he thinks he's Michael Warren"."

But even as Jack laughed, Lisa felt a sense of dread steal over her. She'd said "used to". She was already using the past tense when referring to her father…

"Let's go," she said suddenly, and started walking again.

They trod cautiously through the darkened streets, which now seemed as alien to them as the dark side of the moon. Fires burned in place of the streetlights, casting a warm orange glow over everything and lighting up the darkness of the new night.

"You know, I always thought it was meant to be warmer underground," Lisa mused aloud. "Personally I think it was colder in the sewers than it is up here. What do you think?"

"Yeah," said Jack, who wasn't really listening.

"Well, articulacy never was your strong point, Jack," said Lisa.

She'd meant the remark as a joke, but even as the final word escaped her lips Lisa realised it had been a mistake. Too late, she remembered how the other uptown kids made fun of the way he spoke, and how sensitive he was about it.

_Oh no, oh no, what have I done? Oh please don't let him have heard that…_ she thought desperately.

But Jack had heard her. On any other day, he would have let a remark like that pass without comment – after all, he'd patiently soaked up cruel insults for years without so much as flinching. But he was cold, tired, hungry and scared, still grieving for his aunt, and now he'd been hurt by someone he loved. He could have coped with everything else, but that thoughtless, hurtful remark… it was like being slapped in the face and stabbed in the back and having his heart torn out, all at once.

"Great," said Jack bitterly. "Thanks, Lise. Thanks a lot. It ain't my fault I spend most of my life no speakin' English 'cause my aunt dunt understand it, an' I forget most of it 'cause I dint speak it every day like you people in _los Estados Unidos_."

"Jack, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - " Lisa began.

"I do my best to try an' speak good English, an' you always tell me I no should try 'cause you like the way I talk!" said Jack indignantly. "But now all of a sudden you say it ain't good enough! So what the hell I be meant to do?"

He was so blinded by rage, so intent on unleashing every ounce of the hurt and anger and resentment bottled up inside him, that he didn't even see the tears filling his friend's eyes. All he cared about was hurting someone, _anyone_ – even the person he loved most.

"Maybe I should just speak Spanish, huh? But no, you dunt understand that, do you?" said Jack savagely. "Whatever I do, it never be good enough for anybody! An' now even you be on my case!"

"Jack - "

"I thought you be the only person who understand. Guess I thought wrong, dint I? You dunt understand at all. You dunt even care. You be just like all the other uptown girls, you spiteful, two-faced _bitch_!"

Tears were running down Lisa's cheeks, and her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Maybe I got it wrong all the time an' you ain't my friend after all. You hate me too. Just like everyone else hate me," said Jack, quietly this time.

"_No_!"

And it was only then that the red mist finally cleared and the rage drained away. Lisa was sobbing openly now, not even trying to hide her tears, and Jack realised just how much he'd upset her. Even when she'd cried with fear at the beginning of their escape attempt, she'd had enough pride left to try and stop herself from breaking down.

Guilt and shame filled the space that the anger had left inside him. _Look what you did to her. To Lise, you best friend. The girl you love. How could you? You oughta be ashamed, Jack._

He'd made her cry. He'd actually made her cry.

"Lise…" said Jack, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Lise, I dint mean to yell at you like that. If I think I would make you cry, I never would – oh, jeez, I be sorry. Please forgive me."

But Lisa was crying too much to speak. Not really knowing what else to do, Jack put both arms around her, and hoped that she wouldn't push him away. He certainly wouldn't have blamed her if she had pushed him away – but instead Lisa buried her face in his chest with a small sob, and let him hold her.

"Sorry, Lise," Jack murmured, stroking her hair. "Sorry. All this stuff… it be real hard. But I no should take it out on you. It ain't you fault. You dint do nothin' wrong."

"I shouldn't have said it," said Lisa, through the tears. "I'm sorry."

"No, I be sorry. You ain't spiteful or two-faced," said Jack. "You be the nicest, sweetest girl in the whole world, an' a stupid jackass like me dunt deserve a friend like you. You mean more to me than anythin', Lise."

As Lisa's sobs gradually subsided, it occurred to Jack that they'd never been happy in each other's arms. Whenever they held each other, it was because they were sad. He wanted to change that.

"_Mi amiga, mi ángel,_" he murmured. "Sorry I make you cry, _querida_. _Te amo_."

"Jack, you said it yourself; I don't understand Spanish," said Lisa, looking up at him. "You promised to teach me once, though, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Jack, remembering his first encounter with Lisa at Raccoon City High School. "Yeah, I did, dint I?"

"All right," said Lisa. "So teach me."

"Where you want me to start?" said Jack, a little surprised by the request.

"Start with _mi amiga_. What does that mean?"

"My friend."

"_Mi ángel_?"

"My angel."

Lisa smiled at that, and Jack felt his heart melt. She was so beautiful when she smiled – of course, she was beautiful all the time, whether she was smiling or not, but she was at her best when there was a smile on her face.

"What about _querida_?" she said.

Now Jack felt himself start to blush.

"Darling," he admitted.

"And _te amo_?" said Lisa.

"I think you learn enough for now," said Jack hastily, regretting his decision to teach Lisa Spanish. "Te amo" meant "I love you", and he wasn't sure he wanted her to know that just yet. If she didn't feel the same way, it would wreck everything…

"No, please. Tell me," said Lisa eagerly. "I want to know."

She looked up him with big, innocent brown eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, even though they were slightly pink from crying. But then everything about her was beautiful, from the smooth, creamy silk of her skin to the light in her eyes and the way her long hair framed her face.

And here she was, the girl of his dreams, standing right here in his arms and asking him what "I love you" meant. Well, perhaps he could show her. If words failed him, he could still express emotion without the aid of sound. Her face was so very close to his – it would be so easy just to close the distance and let his lips meet hers.

It was certainly very tempting.

_Kiss Lisa._

The more Jack thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Even his deep fear of rejection paled into insignificance. After all, Lisa knew he'd called her "darling" and she hadn't turned away in disgust. She was still here in his arms, still smiling her sweet smile, and she seemed remarkably eager to find out what his terms of endearment meant. For the very first time, it occurred to Jack that maybe, just maybe, Lisa wanted him too…

Lisa didn't know what to do. Her parents would probably kill Jack if they found out that he had so much as breathed on her, and then they'd probably kill her for allowing him to get that close to her. Besides, she was scared of ruining a wonderful friendship by starting up a relationship that might well be doomed because of their differences.

On the other hand, he was gorgeous. She couldn't take her eyes off him; and then she couldn't take her eyes away from his. She didn't _want_ to, either. All she wanted was to stand there forever and gaze into those deep sky-blue eyes, beautiful eyes filled with warmth and love.

He loved her. She knew that now. And she was beginning to have a vague idea of what _te amo_ meant. But all the same, she wanted to know. _Forget my parents_, she thought. _What they don't know about won't hurt them. And they don't need to know about this._

"So," said Lisa softly, "What does _te amo_ mean, anyway?"

"You wanna know?" said Jack. He felt curiously light-headed, as if he was in a dream and not in the real world at all.

"Yes," said Lisa, raising her hand and touching Jack's cheek without even thinking about what she was doing.

Jack felt his pulse quicken as her fingertips gently caressed his face. Her touch was lighter than air, but it burned like fire and ice; it was an odd but not altogether unpleasant sensation.

"Really?" he said, shivering a little as one of Lisa's delicate fingers traced the outline of his lips. It was unnerving how she seemed to know exactly how to drive him crazy – with one touch she could make him want her so much that he ached all over. If he didn't get to kiss her this time, he thought, he would go insane. No, he would _die_.

"Yes."

And though they were so close, their lips just inches apart, to Jack the tiny gap between them was like a yawning, empty space that went on for miles. He almost felt like screaming out loud. This was just too much. How could she torment him like this? Did she have the faintest idea of what she was doing to him?

_Kiss me, Lise, please kiss me, kiss me, kiss me… I want you… kiss me…_

Still she hesitated, and a brief but endless space remained between them and true happiness.

"Okay, Lise," said Jack. "_Te amo_ means - "

The plan was to kiss her, then complete the sentence: "- I love you." Simple, effective and sweet. And if he was mistaken after all and the kiss was seen as an unwelcome advance, then Plan B was to fall dead at her feet from heartbreak and shame.

But things didn't turn out as expected. Jack's lips had barely brushed against Lisa's when a dark, ominous shadow fell over them. Startled, they both turned round, and looked into the face of evil personified.

Standing before them, like the demon king from a pantomime, was the creature from Lisa's nightmare – the one that had picked up Jack as though he weighed nothing and thrown him straight into the pond in Raccoon Park.

It looked exactly as Lisa remembered it; an immense man-shaped creature that looked as if it had been buried for weeks. Eyes that didn't see, a lipless mouth with teeth permanently bared, and an aura of pure and unadulterated malevolence emanating from it like a toxic cloud.

For a moment, they could do nothing but stare. Then Jack said, very quietly:

"Oh, _shit_."


	24. Deliverance

****

24: Deliverance

The creature – whatever it was – threw back its head and roared. At exactly the same time, Jack and Lisa screamed, and ran.

Get to the manhole, get to the manhole… get back underground. It can't get you underground… you'll be safe.

However, that would mean running the other way, towards the creature - and that was self-evidently a very bad idea. Whatever that thing was, it definitely wasn't a happy bunny.

The ground trembled beneath their feet as it gave chase, each giant lumbering step creating the sound of thunder and earthquakes. Jack and Lisa didn't dare look back. They didn't want to see if it was catching them up.

Lisa thought she couldn't possibly run any faster from this new horror than she'd run from the zombie dogs, but then she thought of what was just behind them, and an extra burst of speed came from nowhere.

She didn't scream. She didn't want to waste breath that might mean the difference between life and a gruesome death. If she stopped running, she would die. It was as simple as that.

Please, God, she begged silently. _Get us out of this. I don't want to die – I don't want Jack to die. Please, God, don't let it get us!_

Jack, on the other hand, was thinking:

Shit, shit, shit! I nearly kiss her an' now this happen! What I do to deserve this, for cryin' out loud? The whole universe got it in for me, I swear…

The sounds of pursuit behind them stopped abruptly. The earth no longer shook with the sound of heavy footfalls. No roars – nothing. Just an eerie silence.

Hardly daring to breathe, Jack and Lisa both stopped. They turned around, very slowly and deliberately, still poised to run if the need arose.

To their astonishment, the creature had disappeared. They looked up, down, and all around them, but their pursuer was nowhere in sight. There was no sign of it anywhere. It was as if the monster had never been there at all.

"It's – it's gone," said Lisa, stunned. "Where – how – Jack, it just disappeared… how is that possible?"

Jack shrugged.

"Where did it go?" said Lisa.

"You be askin' _me_?" said Jack. "I dunt know, Lise. All I know is, it be gone. An' I sure as hell ain't complainin'."

"It's gone," said Lisa again.

She started to laugh, out of sheer relief.

"It's gone," she repeated. "It's _gone_! Jack, we're saved! We're all right! It's gone, and we're okay, and we're going to -"

A thud behind them, and then Lisa was plucked right off the ground before she even had chance to scream.

"Lise!" yelled Jack, whirling round. He was instantly met with the sight of the very creature they thought had vanished without trace, one of its huge hands gripping the defenceless Lisa tightly by the neck and holding her at arm's length.

Lisa flailed helplessly as she tried to free herself, but the creature's iron grip tightened further, its fingers closing around her throat like the coils of a boa constrictor. She struggled to breathe as the air was forced right out of her.

"Kill," intoned the creature, in a deep bass grumble that sent a prickle of fear down her spine.

"No," choked Lisa. "No… please…"

Everything was starting to blur, and silver specked Lisa's vision as oxygen deprivation started to take effect. But a flicker of movement caught her eye; it was coming from the creature's free hand.

There were six fingers on the hand – six? No, that wasn't right, there were five fingers, and one long, thin purple tentacle coming from the palm of the hand, snaking towards her. She had no idea what the tentacle did, but instinct told her that she couldn't let it touch her.

One word popped into her head: _death_. You'll die if it touches you. But wasn't she dying anyway? She was being slowly strangled - and now she was being shaken like a little kitten, her head was swimming, her throat hurt...

Lisa could feel her consciousness slipping away, even as the tentacle got nearer. Through the dreamlike haze of terror and semi-consciousness, she became vaguely aware that someone was shouting.

"Let her go!" Jack bellowed, lashing out at the monster, trying to prise the enormous fingers away from Lisa's throat, forgetting all about fear for his own life. He didn't care if he got hurt. All that mattered was Lisa's safety. He _had_ to get the monster to let go of her, or she'd die.

"Kill," the creature rumbled.

"No! Dunt you touch my Lise! Put her down!"

"Kill…"

"Let go of her, you son of a _bitch_!"

Why was he even bothering to hit the monster? It was clearly having no effect, and Lisa looked close to suffocation. Maybe if he shot at it…

One bullet buried itself in the creature's head, followed by a second. The creature absorbed both shots without even a shudder. Three bullets. Four. Then came the one sound that Jack would have given anything not to hear – the click which meant that the gun was empty.

"Oh no - "

With a snarl, the creature abruptly released Lisa; she fell to the ground, virtually unconscious. Jack's triumph, however, was extremely short-lived. For no sooner had Lisa hit the ground then the purple tentacle shot out of the monster's hand like a whip and caught him across the arm.

The shock and the sudden burst of pain made Jack cry out. He dropped his gun, and clutched at the wound that had just been inflicted on him – a deep gash across his forearm that was already oozing blood.

The tentacle shot out again, but this time it curled around Jack's ankle, lifted him right off the ground, and high into the air. Jack cried out as he saw the monstrous giant's face again -

"KILL!"

With that, it slammed Jack down onto the ground. It lifted him up high, and then slammed him back down again. The pain was overwhelming, so intense that Jack not only thought he'd pass out but sincerely hoped he would.

Just when he thought he couldn't possibly take any more punishment, the creature seemed to tire of the attack. It raised Jack high over its head and hurled him right across the street.

Lisa looked up, just in time to see Jack land in a heap of cardboard boxes with a howl.

"Jack!" she yelled.

On hearing her, the creature turned around to face her. It was then that Lisa saw their salvation…

----------

It was a long time before Amber stopped running. In the end fatigue forced her to stop and lean against a slime-covered wall. Still sobbing with fear, she struggled to regain breath and self-control.

No more spiders here. They were all gone; and so, realised Amber, were Jack and Lisa. She'd left them there, all alone, to face those horrible spiders. She hadn't done a thing to help. She'd just run away, like a coward, and now she hated herself for it.

Joseph would never have abandoned his friends when they were in danger. He would have stayed and fought, or at least helped them to escape. Even when he'd been scared, he'd never run away from the things he feared. He'd always been there for the people who needed him. It had been his undoing, in the end. His willingness to help rescue his friends from the STARS Bravo Team had killed him.

Blinking back tears, Amber forced the thought of Joseph out of her head. He was dead now. No use dwelling on the past; she needed to concentrate on the here and now if she was going to make it out of here in one piece.

Amber pushed some stray curls out of her eyes, and wondered what to do next. She should go back for Jack and Lisa. Could she pluck up the courage to go back and face the spiders again?

Well, she'd have to. If she didn't, she'd never forgive herself for leaving them. So Amber took a very deep breath to settle her nerves – and realised that she had no idea how to get back to the spiders' lair.

Like a fool, she'd run off blindly, not even thinking about which way she was going. Now she was lost. Lost and all alone, down here in the reeking darkness. That thought alone was enough to make Amber dissolve into tears again.

"I'm going to die…"

----------

"We shouldn't have left them."

"Shut up."

"No, I won't."

"That was an order, not a request. Shut up, Private."

"Hey, don't give me that. This time last month you _couldn't_ order me around! And I'm nearly a Corporal too - Sarge said so! I'm due for promotion after this mission! So you won't be able to order me around then, either!"

"That may be so, Lavelle, but right here and now, you're a Private and I'm a Corporal. That means you do what I tell you."

"Even if it's against orders? What about our mission? What's Sarge going to say when he finds out we've lost them?"

"He won't say a thing. We'll find them again soon enough."

"But they could be _anywhere_ in these sewers!"

"I know exactly where they are."

"How come?"

"Well, while you were occupied with finding a torch for the kids, I took the opportunity to plant a tracking device on the cop. Our means of finding the three is stuck on the back of her shirt, hidden underneath her collar. I hardly need to add that she didn't notice a thing."

"A tracking device? No _way_. You actually carry stuff like that around with you?"

"Like they say in the Army, Lavelle, "prior preparation prevents poor performance". A good mercenary should be prepared for every eventuality. I suspected that something might happen here in the sewers, so I took precautions in case we got separated from the civilians. We can't afford to lose them, Lavelle. There's too much at stake."

"I know. But a tracking device – whoo-ee! How did you get your hands on one of those? They're _not_ standard-issue."

"I put in a special request. I figured we might need it for a mission like this."

"I didn't."

"That's why I got promoted first, Lavelle. So don't worry; we'll find them again. And with any luck, being lost in the sewers for a few hours will have scared some sense into them. When we find them again, they'll follow us like little lambs."

"So where are they?"

"Let's take a look…"

"Hey, they're not far away, are they?"

"Six point four-five metres. Not far at all."

"What's that sound?"

"I don't know. Maybe if you stopped talking for once in your life, I'd be able to hear it too."

"Sounds like someone crying."

"It must be them. Let's move."

"If one of them's dead, I'm blaming you..."

"Oh, shut _up_."

----------

Amber looked up sharply at the sound of muffled voices and splashes. Someone was coming…

"Hey!" she shouted out. "Hey, who's there?"

"It's us," called a familiar voice. "Renée and Christina."

"Renée? Oh, man, am I glad to see you two again," gasped Amber. "Please, you have to help me find Jack and Lisa!"

"What? You mean they're not with you?" said Renée. "Where are they? What happened?"

"We were in the tunnels, and then there were all these giant – giant spiders – we got separated," said Amber, carefully avoiding the exact details of their separation. "I don't know where they are – please, help me find them! We have to find them, they could be in real trouble!"

"I thought you were meant to be looking after them," said Christina.

"I was," protested Amber. "But then there were the spiders, and - "

"And you lost them," Christina finished. "Spiders or no spiders, you shouldn't have let those children out of your sight for a second. Giant spiders are no excuse for carelessness and irresponsibility. You should have run after them."

There was an awkward silence.

"Well?" said Christina. "Why didn't you? You can run pretty fast, from what I've seen. You would have been able to catch them up easily."

"They weren't running away from the spiders - I was," said Amber, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. For the first time, she was glad of the lack of light in the sewers.

"So what you're telling us is that you took one look at the spiders and ran off screaming, abandoning young Jack and Lisa to an uncertain fate in the darkness," said Christina flatly. "Of all the cowardly, pathetic, spineless excuses for a human being that I've encountered in my career, you are by far the worst. You criticise us, but at least we mercenaries have backbones. We don't run away from a fight. We don't leave our comrades to die. And we don't _ever_ let our fears get the better of us. We do our job no matter what. _Your_ job, Lieutenant Bernstein, is to protect the innocent and to serve the public, and you failed to do that job. If I was the Chief of Police I would have you fired."

"I know," said Amber in a small voice. "I screwed up."

"Yes, you did. But there's nothing you can do about that now, so don't bother with self-pity. Our main concern now is to find Jack and Lisa before something else does."

----------

Lisa's mind raced. Basic thoughts emerged from the fog of primitive terror, like icebergs in the sea of her consciousness.

Red barrel. They explode. Explosions kill things – like monsters. Bullets make barrels explode… shoot the barrel! Shoot it! Blow it up, blow it all up!

The barrel was just behind the creature. Yes… if she could hit that barrel, she'd blow that overgrown zombie to kingdom come. And herself, too, come to think of it. But if she could get out of the way, and shoot before the monster could come after her…

Forcing herself to her feet, Lisa got up and ran. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the creature start moving, getting ready to chase her. She turned and fired a few wild shots in the direction of the barrel, praying that at least one would hit.

The world slowed down; or if it didn't, it seemed to. That horrible monster was just starting to run - but wait, yes, one of the bullets was about to hit the barrel…

Lisa flung herself to the ground, half-expecting to feel a rush of searing heat as the blast consumed her, but there was no heat. She heard the roar of an explosion behind her, drowning out the roar of the enraged creature - and then dead silence.

----------

There was a sudden boom, muffled by the thickness of the concrete and brickwork above their heads. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the explosion rocked the street above them.

"What was _that_?" exclaimed Amber.

"I don't know, but I think we'd better take a look," said Renée.

"You're hearing explosions and you _want_ to find out what's making them?" said Amber, frowning. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Creatures don't blow things up. People do," said Christina.

"Yeah," said Renée. "Whoever's up there might need our help."

"Jack and Lisa?" said Amber.

"Could be," said Renée thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's the UBCS boys. Either way, we'd better go check it out. Come on! I'm sure there's a manhole around here somewhere…"

----------

After allowing several seconds to elapse, Lisa raised her head to take in the scene. Scorched concrete where the barrel had been. Thick smoke spiralling upwards. Smouldering fragments of metal. Flames licking at the still, silent body of the monster, lying face-down on the ground.

"Yes! Kill _that_, you freak!" said Lisa triumphantly, but the glee of her victory faded away when she saw that Jack hadn't moved from the spot where he'd been thrown. Was he stunned, unconscious, even - ? She didn't even dare think it. Jack _had_ to be all right. He couldn't be dead - he just couldn't!

"Jack!" Lisa cried, hurrying to his side.

Just as she reached him, Jack opened his eyes. He sat up hurriedly and gasped:

"Lise, that thing! We gotta get outta here, now, b'fore it - "

"Jack, Jack, it's okay," Lisa reassured him. "It's dead. I shot that red barrel and blew it up. It won't be bothering us any more."

Jack sighed gratefully, and slumped back into the pile of boxes.

"That's not a good place to take a break, Jack," said Lisa severely. "Come on, we're not out of danger yet. We need to get out of here."

"Yeah," said Jack, sighing again. "You be right. Give me a hand, yeah?"

Lisa helped him to his feet, and Jack dusted himself off. As he brushed some dust off his cargo pants, Lisa saw blood on his shirt and a tear in his shirtsleeve. Somehow, possibly during the struggle with the monster, he'd acquired a nasty cut across his forearm.

"You're hurt," said Lisa, troubled.

"Ah, that? It dunt hurt," said Jack, smiling bravely, although he winced when she touched his arm.

Lisa felt like she was in a scene from a movie, the kind of clichéd affair in which the hero got hurt defending the girl – the girl would touch him tenderly on the arm, just like this, and then he'd smile and say it didn't hurt even though it did, because he was brave. What happened next? She wasn't sure exactly. Old movie scenes whirled through her head, an unending waltz of handsome heroes and beautiful heroines, pitched battles with terrifying monsters, cries of "My hero!" followed inevitably by passionate embraces –

"Lisa! Jack!"

- or almost-kisses rudely interrupted by the arrival of other characters, which was quite possibly the most annoying thing in the whole world, in real life as well as in the movies.

Hurrying towards them were Christina, Renée, and an anxious-looking Amber. Lisa sighed, and Jack tried to conceal his irritation. Of all the times those three had to reappear, they had to do it _now_. There really was no justice in the universe…

"Kids! Oh, thank goodness you're alive!" gasped Amber, throwing her arms around Lisa and Jack and squeezing them tightly. "I was so worried… are you two okay?"

Lisa didn't bother asking Amber what she was doing here, or how she'd found the mercenaries; she might wonder about it later, but right now she didn't really care. She was too pleased to see them all again.

"Jack's hurt," Lisa told them, when she and Jack had finally succeeded in disentangling themselves from Amber.

"Lise, I be _okay_," Jack argued. "Dunt fuss. It only be a little scratch."

Amber sucked in her breath sharply as she caught sight of the wound.

"Little scratch, my ass," she said, sounding even more alarmed than she looked. "You're practically bleeding dry. That needs looking at, Jack."

"Here, give me your arm," said Renée. "I just started training in field medicine, maybe I can help."

Reluctantly, Jack rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm for inspection. He tried not to yelp as Renée's cold hands gripped his arm, turning it slightly so that she could take a better look.

"This looks pretty deep," said Renée, concerned. "How did you get this, Jack?"

"See that big ugly dude over there?" said Jack, nodding towards the burning, motionless form of the monster.

"My God, what the hell _is_ that?" exclaimed Amber.

Renée looked equally shaken by the sight of the fallen monster. Christina, however, didn't look surprised at all; instead she was frowning, as if she'd seen it before somewhere and was trying hard to recall where.

"Why you be askin' me what it be? _I_ dunt know," said Jack, exasperated. "All I know is it be some giant super-zombie thing that shoot out tentacles, slap me 'cross the arm, then pick me up an' beat the livin' daylights outta me. What with all that, I dint really get chance to ask it to introduce itself."

"How did you kill it?" said Amber.

"I dint," said Jack. "Ask Lise, she kill it."

"I just saw a red barrel and I knew those things explode, so I waited till the monster got in front of it and shot it," said Lisa, with a shrug.

For once, Christina looked almost impressed.

"Not bad," she said, and there was the faintest hint of approval in her voice. "Quick thinking, good shot, good use of available resources. You could almost be a mercenary, girl. A pity you're so squeamish about dirt."

"I don't want to be a mercenary," said Lisa. "I just want to get out of here alive and in one piece."

"Don't we all," sighed Renée. "Well, Jack, we'll need to clean this up first. Do we still have that first aid kit, Christina?"

"No, I put it back into his backpack just before we left the car," said Christina.

"Okay. 'Scuse me, Jack…"

Renée turned Jack around, pulled the first aid kit out of his backpack, and started searching through it.

"Antibacterial wipes… First Aid spray… bandages. I can't sew it up for you, I'm afraid. I'm still learning how to do stitches," Renée apologised.

"Uh, okay," said Jack, trying not to look scared at the idea of being sewn up by an amateur doctor.

"Right," said Renée. "You might want to sit down, it'll be more comfortable for both of us."

Jack sat down obediently. Renée did the same, placing the first aid kit on the asphalt and the things she needed in her lap. She took one of the antibacterial wipes and began cleaning away the blood, as gently as possible.

Renée looked much calmer now that there was a task for her to concentrate on, thought Lisa. Having something to focus on seemed to have taken her mind away from the disquieting possibility of being killed and eaten.

Lisa wished _she_ had something to do to distract her from all this. Almost any task would have done – she'd always whined when her parents asked her to wash the dishes or take out the trash, but at the moment she would gladly have done a whole mountain of dishes and taken out a hundred trashcans. Anything was better than being here in this necropolis, cold and frightened and forced to do battle with the stuff of nightmares, over and over again.

"Okay," said Renée, as she finished wiping the blood away. "That's done. Now I'm going to put some First Aid spray on this for you. This might sting a little, okay?"

She shook the can of First Aid spray, and sprayed the contents liberally over the cut. Jack stifled a yell – it stung, and rather more than "a little". It felt like she'd rubbed salt into the wound, and splashed it with acid for good measure.

"Sorry," said Renée quickly.

"'S okay," said Jack, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the burning sensation as best he could.

He wished his aunt was here. She'd nursed him through countless injuries and illnesses, and he'd lost count of how many times she'd patched up all the cuts and bruises he'd acquired as a result of skateboarding accidents.

Watching Renée unroll some bandages reminded Jack of the time when he'd been beaten up after school by one of the older boys for the heinous crime of being a "pretty little white boy" in a school full of tough Hispanic kids. He'd stumbled through the front door, whimpering like a baby – even though he was nearly fifteen – and then he'd tripped over the edge of the carpet and caught his head on the coffee table. Blood everywhere, and he was sobbing by then, but Aunt Rosa hadn't even flinched. With patience and tenderness, she'd cleaned him up, tended to the wounds, and bandaged his head. Then she'd gone straight round to the bully's house and knocked on the door – when he answered, she punched him in the head so hard that he didn't regain consciousness until the next morning. Jack had been terrified that the boy would seize this as an excuse to torment him even more, but instead the boy went over to him just before the start of classes the next day and apologised profusely. After that, nobody had laid so much as a finger on Jack.

That had been a year ago, in Mexico. Now it seemed like a hundred years ago and half a world away.

As Renée started to wind a fresh bandage around his arm, Jack wondered what Aunt Rosa would have done if she'd seen what had just happened to him. She would probably have fixed him up first, and then given the monster hell: "You no touch my nephew again, _pendejo_, or I punch you inna head!"

He couldn't help smiling at the thought of his aunt berating the creature, then knocking it out with a vicious left hook. But of course that was never going to happen. Aunt Rosa wasn't here to take care of him any more. She was dead.

Or was she? She'd died from the virus, after all. Maybe she'd turned into a zombie too. Maybe she was walking around right now, lurching and groaning, feasting on human flesh. She wouldn't recognise him, wouldn't remember him. All her memories, all her knowledge, all her personality, all the things that made her _her_, would be gone forever.

In his mind's eye, Jack saw his aunt – pale and dead, her face and eyes blank, her mouth dripping with other people's blood. The vision was mercifully brief, but in those few seconds he'd realised that whatever she was now, she wasn't Aunt Rosa any more. The Aunt Rosa he knew and loved was gone. Her body might still be functioning on some basic level, but to all intents and purposes his aunt was dead. Worse than dead. She was _undead_.

"There," said Renée, tying the bandage and admiring her handiwork. "A pretty good job there, I think, even if I do say so myself. You – hey, Jack, are you okay?"

"Huh? What?"

"You're crying."

Jack raised his hand to his face. Renée was right. He hadn't even noticed the tears filling his eyes.

"Men. You're such babies," said Christina scornfully. "I'd hate to think how you'd react to _real_ pain."

"Oh, leave him alone, will you?" snapped Amber. "He's only a kid. He's hurt and he's scared. Wouldn't you cry if you were in his place?"

"I have other ways of dealing with fear and pain."

"Like taking it out on other people?"

"Now _listen_, you - "

Jack had had enough.

"Shut up!" he yelled, so loudly that they all fell silent.

"Now this be how we get in trouble last time, 'cause we end up arguing!" Jack continued angrily, and stood up. "Christina, Amber, we all be in the same boat. You gotta stop rockin' it, or you gonna tip us all out."

"He's right," said Lisa. "Arguing was what split us up in the first place. Now I don't know about the rest of you, but Jack and I would actually like to leave the city alive and well. And much as I'd like to boast that we could easily manage on our own, we can't do it alone. We almost got killed because you three left us. We need your help."

"Well, at least _somebody's_ prepared to admit it," said Christina, glaring at Amber, who scowled and turned away.

"No more arguing," said Lisa shortly. "That means everybody. We have to stick together. So, now that we're back together, what's the plan?"

"Stay out of the sewers," said Amber, without hesitating.

"I'm with Amber on this one," said Renée, as she repacked the first aid kit. "The sewers aren't looking like such a good idea any more. Too dark, too many monsters, too easy to get lost. And now that we've come out here, we're closer to Umbrella headquarters than we are to the sewage plant. No point heading there any more."

"Affirmative," said Christina. "I say we carry straight on from here, take a shortcut through the cemetery and the park to the old hospital, then go round to the front of the clock tower and take a right into Warren Street. Then we - "

"Wait a minute, did you say the _cemetery_?" said Amber, aghast.

"No way we be goin' through the cemetery! We seen enough dead people for one day," said Jack. "Right, Lise?"

Lisa didn't answer. She wasn't too worried about the cemetery – at least the people buried there really were dead. It was the idea of having to go through the park that bothered her. It reminded her of the terrible nightmare she'd had; she and Jack had been standing on the bridge in the park, at night, and the monster had come out of nowhere. What if that dream came true?

That's impossible. The creature's dead, Lisa told herself. _Unless… no, there can't be more than one of those things, can there?_

"Lise?" said Jack. "What be the matter?"

"I don't want to go through the park," Lisa said quietly.

"How come?" said Renée.

"I – I just don't, okay?" said Lisa.

"C'mon, Lise, what you be scared of?" said Jack. "Nobody gonna mug you or nothin'."

"It's not that," said Lisa. "It's just - oh, Jack, I really can't explain."

How can I explain to him that he might die if he goes into the park?

"Either give us a reason to avoid the park," said Christina frostily, "Or keep your irrational whims to yourself and stop interfering with the plan. Unless of course you can come up with a better plan?"

Defeated, Lisa shook her head.

"No," she said. "I can't."

"Well then," said Christina. "Let's get a move on. We don't have all night."

She turned on her heel and started walking briskly away, in the direction of the clock tower.

Renée scrambled to her feet, handed Jack the first aid kit with a rushed thank-you, and hurried after her fellow mercenary. Amber followed Renée and Christina at a sedate trot until she fell into step with the other two women.

Lisa waited as Jack put the first aid kit back into his backpack and retrieved his gun, and then they both started walking after the others. Unlike Renée and Amber, however, they didn't bother closing the gap.

Without a word, Lisa reached for Jack's hand. He took her hand in his and squeezed it tightly. They walked on in silence, hand in hand, sharing the same thought: _Not alone. We're not alone any more._


	25. Just Resting

****

25: Just Resting

The cemetery gates turned out to be locked.

"Not for long," said Renée, grinning, and produced a lockpick from one of her many pockets.

"Are you_ sure_ this cemetery thing is a good idea?" said Amber warily, as Renée set to work on the gates.

"Quite sure," said Christina. "It'll take at least ten minutes off the journey time, and it'll also save us from climbing over a lot of barricades on our way there. Why, are you scared?"

"Of course I'm scared!" said Amber. "Any sane person would be afraid of going through a cemetery, at night, when there are zombies around!"

"Why are you so worried?" said Christina, frowning. "All the people in here are dead. Personally I would be more concerned with all the people wandering round _outside_ the cemetery. They're dead too. At least the people in here got the message."

"I guess," said Amber grudgingly – she knew Christina was probably right, but she wasn't at all happy about having to admit it.

"Got it," said Renée.

She pushed the gates open and they filed in, one by one.

A few weeks ago, in the daytime, the cemetery would have been – well, not a _nice_ place to be, but pleasant enough if you ignored the fact that there were dead people mouldering quietly a few metres beneath the neatly trimmed lawns and rows of assorted tombstones.

Now, though, it was a sinister place of dark shadowy shapes and unknown terrors – the stereotypical spooky graveyard. There were even a few wisps of mist curling around the gravestones. It was all too easy to imagine a vampire rising from one of the tombs, or a mad doctor and his hunchbacked assistant heading towards a fresh grave with shovels, sacks and calculating expressions.

"This is so creepy," said Amber, as they picked their way through the rows of graves. "I feel like I'm gonna bump into Jekyll and Hyde, or Dracula, or something."

"Or Frankenstein's monster," suggested Renée. "Big scary dude made out of dead people. He'd probably feel right at home here in Raccoon City."

"Met him," said Lisa instantly.

"Yeah, an' we blow him _sky_-_high_!" exclaimed Jack, throwing his arms in the air and almost hitting Renée in the head.

"Ahem," said Lisa, with a little cough.

"Well, _you_ blow him sky-high," conceded Jack, "But I save you life first."

"True," said Lisa, and ran out of things to say.

A gust of wind made the trees rustle; otherwise, it was quiet. Unnervingly so, in Lisa's opinion. She was desperate for something to break the silence; even the appearance of a zombie would have been a strange relief. At least then she'd have a reason to be afraid. Being afraid of silence was – well, it was stupid.

After a while, Renée cleared her throat.

"You know, I just don't get these epitaph things at all," she said, waving her hand towards the tombstones.

In front of the others, Christina rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"What do you mean?" said Lisa, eager to keep the conversation alive.

"Well, take this one, for instance," said Renée, and she pointed to a grave that they happened to be passing. "Underneath the name and dates it's got "not dead, just resting". I mean, come _on_. Not dead… who's he trying to kid? And just resting? Does that mean his folks tried to bury the poor guy every time he took a nap? Imagine that, waking up after a couple of hours' shut-eye and suddenly wondering why it's all gone dark. Oh, hey, look at this one."

This headstone was black marble, with an inscription in gold letters:

_Here lies Eric Christopher Strattle  
Fell asleep on September 15th, 1998, aged 27 years_

"Fell asleep?" said Renée incredulously. "They buried him because he fell asleep? Man, I'd hate to live in _this_ town. I'd be scared to shut my eyes in case someone called the funeral directors. I wonder if the hospitals declare their patients medically dead every time they blink?"

"Live burial isn't funny," said Amber curtly. "I investigated an incident last year involving an accidental live burial. The relatives were in a terrible state. They sued the pants off the old Raccoon Hospital; the entire morgue staff got fired. It put the funeral director out of business too. A lot of people lost their jobs because of that incident. I'd hardly describe that as funny."

"Me either. It's dead serious," said Renée, poker-faced.

Amber glared at her.

"Hey, there be another one with "no dead'" on it," said Jack. "Look – that couple they find in the park a couple of weeks back."

A plain granite headstone this time, with a bunch of fading lilies left lying on the grave mound. The inscription read:

_Josef and Susan Leidermann  
Died September 8th 1998, aged 28 years_

_"Not dead, just asleep"_

"Just asleep. Huh. They're fooling nobody but themselves," said Renée matter-of-factly. "Hey, I wonder what would happen if I leaned down and shouted "Hey, Mr and Mrs Supposedly-Not-Dead, this is your early morning wake-up call!". You think they'd sit up yawning or something?"

"Don't," said Lisa, shuddering. "Please. I'm freaked-out enough as it is without you putting thoughts like that in my head."

"Oh, don't worry," said Renée, giving the tombstone a pat. "Christina's right. These people are dead, and unlike the poor folks outside the cemetery, they're going to _stay_ dead –"

A rotting hand suddenly burst through the grave, spraying soil everywhere, and groped blindly towards Renée's leg.

Renée screamed and leapt backwards, coming to land on the last resting place of Beatrice Lorraine Wrigley (died September 13th, 1998 - RIP). But this spot proved to be an even worse place to stand.

With an explosion of earth, Lisa's late neighbour erupted from her grave – apparently, Mrs Wrigley had decided that she didn't want to rest in peace after all. And neither, it seemed, did the people in neighbouring graves.

It was as though that one tap on the tombstone had sparked off a chain reaction. Zombies sprang up from the earth, one after another, showering the once-pristine cemetery with grass and dirt. Before they knew it, the living dead were everywhere.

"All the people in here are dead, you said. They're going to _stay_ dead, you said," Amber said loudly. "Well, I don't know about you, but they don't look like they're staying dead to me!"

One of the zombies snarled at them.

"Perhaps, on reflection, the cemetery was ill-advised," said Christina.

"Really? You think?" said Amber sarcastically.

"Obviously some of the zombie victims were buried before people were aware of the T-Virus' side effects," said Christina, seemingly oblivious to sarcasm – and to the approaching zombies. "Nobody anticipated that those killed wouldn't stay dead and buried."

"Obviously," muttered Amber.

"Um, hello?" said Lisa. "I hate to interrupt, but in case you haven't noticed, _we're surrounded by zombies_! What are we going to do about it?"

"Panic?" suggested Renée.

"The plan - " Christina began.

"Screw the plan!" yelled Jack. "The plan sucks! We 'bout to get killed 'cause of the plan! Well, I got a new plan! We jump over the fence an' we run like hell! How's that sound to you?"

Christina's eyes swivelled. She took in the scowl on Jack's face, the fear in the eyes of the others, and the crowd of former coffin-dwellers heading slowly and inexorably towards them.

Thud. Thud-_thud_. The irregular sound of dead men's clumsy footsteps, occasionally punctuated with long, low groans. They were getting closer now, so close that the smell of death and decay seemed to be everywhere.

In theory, they could just kill the zombies. There were a lot of them, true, but that didn't really matter when both she and Renée had AK-47s at their disposal. But as they'd already discovered earlier in their mission, zombies were difficult to kill, and particularly difficult to kill quickly. Even when filled with enough lead to make a crateful of pencils, they still kept on coming. It was doubtful whether they could manage to keep the zombies at bay for long.

"Well?" said Jack impatiently.

"It looks like we don't have much choice," said Christina. "We have to retreat."

"You and Lisa go first," said Renée. "We'll hold off the zombies."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" said Lisa.

"Just go. Don't worry about us," said Renée. "You and Jack get yourselves out. We'll be right behind you."

Lisa nodded.

"C'mon, Lise!" called Jack, who was already at the fence.

Although she wasn't the athletic type, Lisa decided that running was a good idea in this situation. She summed up as much energy as possible, and ran, covering the ground between her and the fence in a few seconds.

The fence that separated the cemetery from the rest of the world was a set of cast-iron railings which, Lisa noted unhappily, were topped with sharp spikes.

"How are we going to climb over that?" said Lisa.

"S'okay, I help you over," said Jack. "Up you go…"

He picked Lisa up by the waist and lifted her right over the railings, dropping her on the other side.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Jack scaled the fence and tried to climb over without hurting himself. He was halfway over and was just about to climb down the other side when he heard a scream, and the sound of gunfire.

Distracted by the noise, Jack turned to look; his hand closed on empty air instead of the fence, and he lost his balance. With a cry of alarm, he fell forwards and landed in a heap at Lisa's feet.

Lisa had barely opened her mouth to say "Are you all right?" when Amber hurtled towards the fence and scrambled over the top, ignoring the tearing sound as the leg of her pants caught on the spikes and ripped. She rolled when she hit the ground, and lay there, panting.

A second later, Renée took a running jump at the fence, barely clearing it; she was followed by Christina, who winced slightly as she grabbed hold of the spikes and hauled herself right over the railings.

"Made it," gasped Renée. "We made it."

"Graaaaaah!"

Zombies came out of nowhere, and hurled themselves against the railings with an almighty crash. Half-rotted hands lunged through the gaps in the fence, trying to snatch at them through the bars.

Lisa screamed.

"Get back!" said Christina, shoving her roughly aside.

"Can they get through the fence?" said Amber.

"Perhaps. Either way, I have no intention of letting them try," said Christina. She and Renée trained their assault rifles on a small group of zombies, and unleashed hell.

Blood sprayed everywhere as bullets ripped through dead flesh. Zombies fell like snow, their groans drowned out by the roar of gunfire. Soon there were bodies littering the ground on the other side of the railings.

"Damn," muttered Renée. She'd run out of bullets. She removed the empty magazine, discarded it with a flick of her wrist and snapped a fresh one into place – small, swift, almost instinctive movements. Within the space of a few seconds she was ready to fire again.

Before long, every zombie lay dead. Renée sighed, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and turned round; her initial satisfaction in having felled the undead soon drained away when she saw the pale, shocked faces of the three civilians.

"What's the matter?" she asked them.

Amber laughed bitterly.

"What's the matter?" she repeated. "What's the _matter_? We almost _died_ back there!"

She wasn't laughing any more.

"We barely escaped with our lives," she continued, "We've just seen a whole bunch of our late fellow citizens mown down with assault rifles. And now you're asking us what the matter is? Well, I'll tell you what the matter is – it's you two, that's what! You're both insane!"

"Actually, we prefer the term "sanity-impaired"," said Christina, surveying the carnage with her usual dispassion.

"I prefer the term "crazed mass-murderers who think it's a good idea to go through the cemetery at night in a city full of zombies"," said Amber. "What the hell is wrong with you mercs? Do you have some kind of death-wish?"

"No. But _you_ seem to," said Christina, with a long, hard look at Amber.

Amber, however, was not impressed.

"Don't bother trying to intimidate me, Corporal," she snapped.

Their gazes were locked, chilly blue and defiant green, both women refusing to give an inch. Neither of them blinked, or looked away. The air between them seemed to solidify under the force of the intense, angry stare.

"I'm not afraid of you," said Amber quietly.

Christina's eyes narrowed.

"You should be," she said coldly. She turned and walked away from Amber in an abrupt movement. But although Christina was the one who had broken eye contact first, Amber was left with the distinct feeling that she hadn't won that round – not by a long shot.

"Well," said Christina briskly, glancing around them. "At least we got to our destination in one piece."

"We – we did?" said Lisa, taken aback.

For the first time since landing, she took a good look at her surroundings. On this side of the railings there were trees, a neatly defined gravel path lined with lamps, a couple of late roses blooming on a bush… and a bench.

The sight of this last object chilled Lisa's heart, as it suddenly dawned on her just where they were.

Without even realising it, she had come to the last place on earth she wanted to be – the very place she'd begged the others to avoid.

She looked back at the fence. On that side of the railings was the cemetery. And on this side…

"Raccoon Park," Lisa whispered.


	26. Park Life

****

26: Park Life

"The park," said Amber, with a wry smile. "How nice. We can look at all the pretty flowers while we get eaten by monsters. Isn't that wonderful, everyone?"

"My aunt always tell me never to go in a park at night," said Jack.

"I think she was worried about you getting mugged rather than getting eaten, Jack," Renée pointed out.

"Though mugging wouldn't be a problem if the police actually did their job," said Christina.

Amber pointedly ignored the comment, much to Lisa and Jack's relief. If Christina was disappointed by her failure to bait the policewoman, however, she failed to show it. She merely shrugged, and gestured that they should continue their journey.

As Christina indicated which way they should go with a wave of her hand, Lisa noticed that there was a deep, painful-looking cut in the woman's hand, right across the palm.

"You've cut your hand pretty badly, Christina," she pointed out.

Christina gave the injured hand a quick glance.

"So I have," she observed.

Though aware that Christina and her colleagues were probably trained to work through pain and discomfort, Lisa was still surprised by the mercenary's response.

"Doesn't it hurt?" said Lisa.

Christina considered this for a moment.

"Yes," she said simply. "It does. The trick is not to _mind_ that it hurts. Now come on."

They made their way through the park. As usual, Christina and Renée led the way. Amber wasn't far behind them, but after a while she slowed her pace a little. She allowed a short distance to come between herself and the two mercenaries. When she thought they were out of earshot, Amber muttered to Jack and Lisa:

"Does that woman actually _have_ feelings?"

"Well… there's scorn," Lisa suggested. "And contempt."

"Disdain for all humanity," added Jack.

"Apart from that?" said Amber.

"No," said Lisa.

"No," agreed Jack. "I dunt think so either."

Amber glared at Christina's back. Possibly no other back in the world had ever been regarded with such venom.

"That _witch_," she muttered. "I'd shoot her if I had any bullets left."

"You don't mean that," said Lisa.

"The hell I don't!" said Amber.

"You said it yourself," said Lisa. "We need them."

"_Them_, I said. Not _her_. We'd still have Renée to help us," said Amber.

"So much for "to protect and to serve"," said Lisa disapprovingly.

"I'd be protecting and serving you kids by getting rid of that crazy bitch before she gets us all killed," said Amber, but now she didn't sound quite so convinced.

"You don't believe that any more than we do," said Lisa simply. "You just hate them because they're with Umbrella."

"I'm allowed to hate Umbrella. Joseph _died_ because of their foul experiments."

"Yes, but the mercenaries didn't kill your boyfriend. Don't take it out on them. They saved our lives, Amber."

"When?" said Amber. "Did I blink and miss something?"

"Well, for a start, they killed the zombies," said Lisa.

"If we hadn't gone through the cemetery as per _their_ plan, we wouldn't have run into the zombies in the first place," said Amber.

Lisa had to admit that Amber had a point.

"Renée fixed Jack's arm up," she said, changing tack.

"And he wouldn't have got hurt if you two hadn't had to leave the sewers because the mercenaries got us lost down there," said Amber roughly.

"The mercenaries only brought us down there to save us from the crows. And they killed that thing with the long tongue," Lisa pointed out.

"Yes - and then they left us down there to rot!" snapped Amber.

"That's rich coming from you!" Lisa retorted. "You left us too! I don't see why Jack and I should trust you any more than we trust them!"

"Uh, Lise?" said Jack.

"What?" said Lisa.

"Shut up."

Outraged, Lisa opened her mouth to speak; Jack shook his head.

"No, I tell you to shut up, Lise," he said. "Amber?"

"What?" said Amber.

Jack grabbed Amber's hand and slipped some bullets into her palm, closing her fingers around them.

"You wanna shoot Christina? Be my guest," he told her.

"I - I wasn't _serious_, Jack," said Amber, startled.

"Well if you ain't gonna do it, stop talkin' 'bout it," said Jack simply. "Both of you quit it. They gonna hear you, then they think, "Uh-oh, the civvies mean trouble, we better get 'em b'fore they get us…" an' then we gonna be pretty screwed, ain't we? Dunt let 'em get to you. Just ignore 'em; we gonna get to Umbrella soon, then we can ditch 'em for good. Right?"

"Right," said Lisa.

"Right," agreed Amber. "Can I keep the bullets?"

Jack nodded. "Sure."

They waited while Amber reloaded her handgun. Jack did the same, remembering that he'd spent the bullets in his gun while trying to stop the giant zombie.

"There," said Amber, with a sigh. "That's better. I don't feel so helpless any more."

"C'mon, we better catch 'em up now, or they be wonderin' where we get to..." said Jack.

----------

"Listen to that," said Renée, a few minutes later.

The five of them stood still, and listened. The cool night air carried a sound that they all recognised instantly.

"Crickets," said Lisa. She smiled a little; she'd always liked the sound. It brought back a dim memory from her childhood - sitting in her back yard on summer nights with her parents, lying on the grass and smiling as she looked up into the heavens, her father picking out the constellations and putting the names to each one for his young daughter's benefit.

Then the image drifted away like smoke. Lisa's heart sank with the realisation that she would never be able to do that again. The soft green grass in her back yard was soaked with blood and covered with the bodies of people she'd known since kindergarten. There were dead people wandering around in her home. And her parents could be alive, or dead – or stuck somewhere in between the two. She didn't know if she'd ever see them again. It occurred to her that she might never even find out what had happened to them.

_I want my mom_, she thought, for the first time since she and Jack were forced to flee her house. _I want my mom and dad…_

Lisa bit her lip, to stop the tears from coming. She could imagine the look of disdain on Christina's face – and, worse, the looks of pity from Renée and Amber.

Meanwhile, Amber was looking distinctly underwhelmed.

"So the crickets are chirping," she said. "So what?"

"Not _that_," said Renée irritably. "The _other_ sound. Listen hard."

They gradually became aware of a faint noise, intermingled with the crickets' song.

"Sounds like frogs croaking," observed Lisa.

"It is," said Renée. She bent down and scooped something up from the grass. "Look," she said.

Cupped in her hands was a small green frog. It was still croaking away quite contentedly, seeming unfazed by the attention or by being handled.

"Eeew," said Lisa, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"What?" said Renée, taken aback. "What's the matter?"

"Frogs are gross," said Lisa. "They're all slimy."

"I like frogs," said Renée. "I think they're kind of cute."

"Hey, Lise, you remember the time they make us dissect dead frogs in science class?" said Jack.

"Don't remind me," said Lisa, shuddering. "That was disgusting. Though it was kind of funny seeing all the tough guys go green," she added.

"Yeah. Paul look like he gonna throw up, dint he?"

"I think he did, afterwards."

The frog, perhaps tiring of the conversation, sprang out of Renée's hands and hopped away into the darkness.

"Off you go, little guy," said Renée.

She watched it hop away, smiling fondly all the while, like a doting aunt watching over a favourite nephew or niece.

"Okay," said Amber, when she felt that the little interlude had passed. "Time to go. Now which way should we - "

She broke off. Someone was coming; she could hear the sound of a person running through the undergrowth towards them.

Though she was expecting someone to appear shortly after hearing the noise, Amber wasn't quite prepared for the scream, and the policeman in riot gear bursting through a bush, almost colliding with her.

The man clutched her by the shoulders.

"Please," he gasped. "You gotta help me. They're coming!"

"What? Who's coming?" said Amber, startled.

"The frog-creatures are after me! I ran out of bullets! You gotta help me!"

"_Frog-creatures_?"

"Please! They – oh God, no!"

These proved to be the man's last words as a giant amphibian – a frog almost the same size as Lisa – leapt suddenly into view. It opened its enormous mouth, scooped up the hapless police officer, and swallowed him whole.

The man's muffled cries for help lasted no more than two seconds before being abruptly, permanently silenced. His legs disappeared quickly down the creature's throat. Feet followed, and then the hellish mouth snapped closed.

There was a gulping sound as the frog swallowed. Then its great round eyes swivelled towards Jack and Lisa, who stood open-mouthed with horror several feet away.

Its throat swelled, and a deep croak burst forth from the wide mouth. Then, suddenly, the frog-creature launched itself from the ground in one great flying leap towards the two terrified teenagers.

Amber was the first to react.

"No!" she yelled, and whipped out her gun, her finger already curling around the trigger as she took aim.

Her first thought came from the inner police officer – don't shoot without thinking – but this was dismissed instantaneously. Shouting "Stop or I'll shoot!" was unlikely to have any effect on mutant frogs. So Amber acted on her second thought: _Shoot first and ask questions later_.

Two shots rang out in rapid succession. With a dreadful screech, the frog dropped out of the air. It hit the ground, and lay very still.

"Is it dead?" said Renée cautiously.

Amber didn't know. Admittedly, the creature wasn't moving. But that didn't mean anything. She'd seen zombies fall down, apparently dead, only to get up again a few moments later as if nothing had happened.

Either way, she was taking no chances.

Amber put another three bullets into the creature's brain for good measure, and wasn't entirely surprised to hear it screech again when the third shot hit home.

"There," said Amber. "_Now_ it's dead."

This time she was definite. Blood was darkening the grass beneath the creature; nothing could bleed that much and live. And it was twitching; not a good sign in anything alive, but a very good sign in anything dead. None of the zombies that had started twitching had ever got up again.

"Well done," said Christina. "You actually made yourself useful for once."

"Was that some grudging respect I heard just then, merc?" Amber teased.

Christina snorted. "Don't flatter yourself," she said with the usual measure of scorn in her voice.

She ended the exchange in her usual way, by turning away sharply and walking off – it was funny how Christina always managed to finish every conversation on her own terms, Amber reflected. Always the one in control. _Just once_, she thought, _I'd like to make Christina look weak._

"Come on. This way," Christina called after her.

"Time to go," agreed Renée. "Can't hang round here all day. We gotta move."

"So, Renée, you still like frogs?" Jack asked her, as he and Renée followed Christina down the path.

"No way," said Renée instantly. "Frogs suck."

Amber and Lisa didn't follow them. They stood next to the creature's twitching body and watched the others leave.

"We should go after them, you know," said Amber, after a few moments.

Lisa remained silent.

"We don't want to lose them. Not in the park. And I don't know about you but I'm short on ammunition," Amber continued. "I just used up all the bullets Jack gave me on that frog thing."

Still Lisa said nothing.

"I mean, it's dangerous round here. We could get killed."

More silence.

"It was just luck that I managed to kill that thing before it got to you. If I hadn't shot it, then I - are you okay, Lisa?"

The younger girl was wiping her eyes.

"I – I want my mom," Lisa said faintly. "I'm scared, Amber. I want to go home. I want my mom and dad!"

Amber put an arm around the younger girl's shaking shoulders.

"I'm scared too," she said softly. "But don't worry. We'll get through this."

"What about my parents?" said Lisa.

Probably dead by now, thought Amber. It was a nasty thought, and she hated herself for thinking it, but it was almost certainly true. Though she'd never say it out loud, she privately doubted that the Hartleys were still alive. _They can't be. Not with all these monsters around._ _If the zombies didn't get them, it would have been the crows, or the dogs, or the spiders, or the giant frogs_, _or those – whatever the things with the long tongues are called_. _And if they're not dead yet, then they probably will be soon…_

Of course, she couldn't say that to Lisa. Not when the girl was looking at her with fear and hope and pleading in her eyes.

"I'm sure we'll find them," Amber told her instead. It was suitably ambiguous and sounded comforting.

"Alive?" said Lisa.

Amber cursed inwardly. Bang went the ambiguity. She was hoping that Lisa wouldn't have picked up on that. Still, she had. And there was no use in lying to the girl.

"I don't know, Lisa," admitted Amber. "I really don't. But either way, we'll find them."

"Promise?" said Lisa.

Amber hesitated.

"Lisa, I can't promise you that we'll find them," she told her. "But I'll do everything I can to help you look for them."

"Thank you," said Lisa in a barely audible murmur.

"You're welcome," said Amber. "But Lisa, we really ought to go now. If we lose Jack and the others, we're going to be in real trouble."

"Yes, I know."

Lisa wiped her eyes again.

"Okay now?" said Amber gently.

Lisa nodded.

"Ready to go, then?"

"Yes. Let's go."

----------

A few minutes later they caught sight of Jack and the mercenaries, but Amber decided not to try and catch them up just yet. There was something that she was still curious about…

"So tell me," said Amber, "What is it with you and Jack, anyway?"

"What?" said Lisa.

"I know there's something going on with you two. Don't try and tell me you're just friends. I know there's more to it than that."

Amber had been expecting an outright denial, indignation, or at least a sullen, resentful silence. She was therefore surprised when Lisa said:

"Yes. How - "

"How did I know?" said Amber, finishing the sentence for her. "Well, I'm a cop. You learn a lot about people in my line of work. And it's pretty obvious, anyway. It's the way you two act around each other. Don't tell me you haven't seen the way he looks at you."

"Well…"

"You two really should get together. It's like…"

Amber hesitated, and tried again.

"Did you ever watch The X-Files?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever feel like yelling "Get together, for the love of God!" at the TV every time you saw Mulder and Scully together on the screen?"

"Of course," said Lisa. "Didn't everyone?"

"That's how I feel, watching you two," said Amber. "He adores you, Lisa. It's as plain as day. And I think you like him too. So why don't you do something about it?"

She looked at Lisa, silently prompting her to answer. Lisa looked away. For a second Amber didn't think she was going to reply, but then Lisa sighed heavily.

"It's… complicated," she said at last.

"In what way?" said Amber.

"I know he likes me," said Lisa. "And I think I'm starting to like him too. But… it's my parents. They hate him. They think he's trash."

"Oh."

With that, the conversation came to a halt, as neither of them knew what to say next. The awkward pause didn't last long, though; Jack had noticed that Amber and Lisa were some way behind, and had come to see why.

"You two okay?" he asked them.

"We're fine, Jack," said Amber.

"Glad to hear it. C'mon, you better catch up. Christina gonna get mad with you if you dunt hurry. She think there be more big frogs around here an' she want us to get outta here fast."

"Her and me both," said Lisa, with feeling.

"We'd better not keep Her Royal Highness waiting, then," said Amber, rolling her eyes. "Let's go, quickly, or we'll never hear the last of it. I've had enough of her harassing us for one day."

They soon caught up with the mercenaries. Amber and Lisa were anticipating some sort of derogatory comment from Christina, but to their surprise, it was Renée who scolded them.

"You need to stick with us," she said sternly. "You could get hurt or lost if you don't."

"Sorry," said Lisa.

"Okay. But try not to fall behind again. This place is dangerous. Christina thinks this part of the park is crawling with those frog things. There's been a lot of croaking nearby."

The mere thought of more giant frogs was enough to make Lisa and Amber close the gap so much that they ended up treading on Renée and Christina's feet with every step they took.

"Will you watch it?"

"Sorry."

They pressed on through the park, past a red barrel – "What's that doing here?" said Amber, puzzled – and crossed a wooden platform that had been built over an expanse of water.

The platform hadn't been constructed well. It creaked alarmingly as the five walked across it, and more than once Jack and Lisa almost tripped over the edges of ill-fitting wooden planks. At one point, Renée's foot went right through a rotting plank; cursing, she managed to pull her foot free, and stumbled out of the hole in the floor, muttering darkly about "shoddy workmanship".

On reaching the end of the platform, they found themselves at the bottom of a flight of concrete stairs.

"Up we go," said Renée.

Climbing the stairs led them into the main area of the park. Lisa recognised the bridge over the reflecting pool; in her dream, she and Jack had stood there, surrounded by – she sniffed the air – yes, the same smell of fading roses.

She let her thoughts linger on the dream for a moment. Up until the monster's appearance, it hadn't been bad, all things considered. But it raised the whole question of her and Jack again…

Lisa didn't really know what to think any more. She wasn't sure if she even trusted her own emotions, they were so confused. What she _knew_ was that she'd always been fond of Jack, her best friend. What she was starting to believe was that perhaps she was a little fonder of him than she cared to admit.

"Stay right there, and stay quiet," muttered Renée, edging past Lisa. "We're going to look for a way out of here."

"What about the gates?" said Lisa.

Amber shook her head. "Locked," she said. "Ever since the Leidermann investigation. Forensics couldn't find any more clues at the scene, but Mayor Warren wanted the park closed for safety reasons until we found the perpetrator."

"Oh," said Lisa.

Amber, Renée and Christina had already drifted away. They were spreading out and searching for another exit. Lisa looked round for Jack; to her horror, he was standing on the bridge above the pool.

She hurried over and grabbed him by the arm.

"Jack!" she hissed, trying to tug him away from the bridge. "Get down from there!"

Jack wasn't really listening.

"Nice place," he said vaguely, looking out over the water. "Dunt think I ever come here b'fore. I like the skate park a lot better than regular parks. 'S nice here, though. Peaceful."

Lisa tugged at his arm again.

"Jack, get down - it's not safe!"

"Sure it be safe, Lise. C'mon up."

"No way," said Lisa, but she found herself being pulled up and onto the bridge nevertheless.

She was horrified.

"Jack!" she protested.

"What? You dunt like it up here?" said Jack.

"No I do _not_," said Lisa sharply. "Now get down at once."

Jack just smiled. "Hey, chill, Lise. We just stay here a minute, while Amber an' the mercs find us a way out. No harm in that, right?"

Lisa wanted to disagree – but didn't know how.

"I guess," she said reluctantly.

"Okay."

Jack smiled again. Anxious and slightly annoyed though she was, Lisa started to smile too. She couldn't help it. The smile was so disarming as to be contagious.

And then Lisa made the mistake of looking into Jack's eyes.

She hadn't been mistaken. If anything, Jack's eyes were even bluer than they'd been in the dream. An intense, captivating sky-blue, and so bright… eyes she wanted to swim in.

"_Te amo_, Lise," said Jack quietly.

I love you. So she was right.

Lisa suddenly recalled the moment before they'd seen the giant zombie. Her hand on Jack's arm, their lips all but touching, neither of them caring about anything else except the joy of being together. Right then and there, her myriad of fears hadn't mattered. Nothing had mattered; nothing except that moment.

Best friend or not, she would have given anything, _everything,_ for that one kiss.

This moment reminded her of that one. And yet…

Something didn't feel quite right; all the while she sensed something dark and dreadful behind her, something she couldn't see but could certainly feel. Whatever it was, it was unmistakeably evil -

"Time to go."

Lisa jumped, and turned round; Christina was standing there, hands on hips, her boot tapping the ground impatiently as she glared at them. Her displeasure at being kept waiting was clearly evident.

"We found a way out," she continued. "There's a gap in the fence behind the bushes near the gate. It's just big enough to squeeze through. It comes out directly opposite the old hospital. We can continue from there."

"Uh, right," said Lisa. "Thank you. Let's go, Jack."

She and Jack stepped off the bridge, and they followed Christina towards a clump of bushes close to the park gates.

Amber was already climbing through the gap in the railings when they arrived. Renée was leaning against an adjacent tree, waiting for Amber to move out of the way so that she too could climb through.

"Ah, there you are," said Renée jovially, on seeing Jack and Lisa. "Thought we'd lost you. How're you doing, Amber?"

"Almost – okay, I'm through," Amber called through the railings. "Who's next?"

It was decided that Lisa should go first; Amber was particularly insistent on this, having seen the effect of the frog incident on her. With undisguised relief, Lisa squeezed through the gap in the iron railings. She somehow got the impression that by leaving the park, she'd just managed to avoid a dark and dreadful fate.

But what about Jack? She caught sight of him behind the bars, and suddenly she feared for his life all over again. Not because she thought that the monster was around – _after all, I killed it,_ she reminded herself – but because she'd felt evil behind her on the bridge, and when she'd turned to look at it, she'd seen Christina.

Lisa was aware that the woman was less than friendly by nature, and that she didn't make for pleasant company, but she'd never considered her to be a threat. Now, though, she was starting to feel distinctly uneasy in Christina's presence – and about Jack being anywhere near her.

She was greatly relieved when Jack made his way through the gap and joined her on the other side. Renée followed him soon afterwards, and then Christina started to make her way out of the park.

If only we could just run now, and leave Christina far behind, Lisa thought, as she half-watched Christina climb through the railings. She immediately scolded herself for this uncharitable thought; all the same, she couldn't shake the feeling that the mercenary – or, possibly, both of them – spelt nothing but trouble.


	27. Hospital Drama

****

27: Hospital Drama

Jack wasn't feeling very well. He hadn't wanted to say anything, in case he alarmed the others, but not long after having being wounded, he'd started feeling extremely ill.

It wasn't so much the feeling itself that bothered him, although it was far from pleasant - what really unnerved him was the growing suspicion in the back of his mind.

His head ached, he felt faint and nauseous, and his injured arm was sore and swollen. Most disturbingly of all, the wound was starting to itch. It was perhaps inevitable that his thoughts turned to the T-Virus, and the symptoms of those infected by it.

Itching. Hunger. Sickness, vomiting, headaches and tiredness. He remembered the infected beggar's plaintive cries that he was itchy and hungry; Aunt Rosa's look of utter exhaustion, and her frantic coughing. His aunt hadn't lived much longer, and presumably neither had the beggar.

__

'M I dyin'? Jack wondered._ I gonna be a zombie too, soon? Like Auntie, an' my _amigos _from the Street Rats? Please, God, no… dunt let me turn into a zombie… I dunt wanna die…_

His silent torment was briefly interrupted when his stomach rumbled. He was hungry – and his heart sank even further. Another symptom. Now he was convinced he was going to die. He wondered how long he had left…

Only when he looked at his watch did he realise how late it was: it was now 10:36 p.m. It suddenly occurred to Jack that he hadn't eaten properly all day – after what he'd seen on the breakfast news that morning, he hadn't been able to finish his cereal, and all he'd eaten since then was a bar of chocolate, early on in the afternoon.

So perhaps it wasn't surprising that he was hungry. Another thought struck him: maybe he was all right after all. The headache and tiredness could be the result of low blood sugar, or maybe just ordinary tiredness – it was getting late, too, and he'd been through a lot since he woke up that morning.

Jack's spirits lifted. Of course he was tired; anyone would be, under these circumstances! The sickness could be the result of delayed shock – God only knew he'd had more than his fair share of that today – or possibly because his stomach was so very empty. He hadn't actually been sick, either, so that was reassuring.

And the itching? Well, perhaps the bandage on his arm was rubbing against the wound, or something like that. And didn't open wounds itch anyway? Healing scars did, he knew that; his aunt had once complained of that, after she'd cut her hand trying to open a can of soup and had the wound stitched up. So perhaps that explained it.

__

So I be okay after all, thought Jack. _Gonna be just fine. 'S all in my head…_

Reassured by this thought, he allowed himself to relax a little.

By now Christina had climbed through the fence and was standing on the sidewalk next to him.

"There," she said, with a glance at Lisa. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Sure," said Amber, with a saccharine-sweet smile. "If you don't count seeing Kermit's evil cousin jump out of nowhere and swallow that guy whole, everything was just _peachy_."

Jack was starting to get fed up with Christina and Amber's verbal catfights. He let his thoughts wander as the shouting started, only to be brought back to earth again when somebody tugged urgently at his sleeve.

It was Lisa.

"Jack," she said anxiously, "Jack, I think I just saw someone over there."

"What? Where?" said Jack.

"Over there…" said Lisa.

She pointed at the hospital, which was just across the street. From this distance Jack could just make out something huddled in the doorway; it looked like a person crouched low on the floor, holding something in their arms.

Amber and Christina were still squabbling, and Renée was far too busy trying to keep the peace to even notice Jack and Lisa crossing the street.

Drawing closer to the hospital, they saw that they were right. There _was_ a person sitting in the doorway of the hospital - a young man with dark hair. His clothes were soaked with blood, but he was still breathing, and he looked up at their approach.

The face was very familiar…

"_Madre de Dios,_" gasped Jack. "Marco? That be you?"

"Jack… didn't know you were still alive, bro," said Marco. His face was ashen, and he spoke slowly, as if in a trance.

"What happened, Marco?" Lisa asked him.

"My brother's dead," said Marco, seemingly oblivious to the question. "I think everyone is."

"I know. I see him a while ago," said Jack. "'M sorry, Marco."

"Antonio saved my life, man," said Marco. "They'd have got me if he hadn't tried to stop 'em. They got him instead. Now he's one of 'em."

"He be dead now, bro," said Jack. "Really dead. He ain't a zombie no more."

For the first time since the start of the conversation, the words actually seemed to register with Marco. He breathed out, and seemed to relax slightly.

"Least he's restin' in peace now."

"Yeah," said Jack, not knowing what else to say.

Marco took a deep breath. By the look of things, he was having to put more and more effort into each sentence.

"Batman's dead too. He lives across the street from me… I saw him jump out the window to get away from those things. He landed okay, but then… there were more zombies down below…"

Marco coughed, and Jack felt his blood chill. Aunt Rosa had coughed just like that, and two days later she was dead. Though by the looks of things, Marco would be fortunate to survive that long. Almost every inch of clothing was dark and sticky with blood.

"Columbine be dead too," said Jack.

"I know… I saw her die. What about the others? Did… did they get away?"

"The others?" said Lisa.

"Roland, Ritchie, Almond, Mitch, Raphael," said Marco. "Did they make it?"

"I see Roland and Ritchie in downtown, a few blocks over from the record store," said Jack. "An' I see Mitch not long after that. They all be dead. I ain't seen Almond or Raphael."

Marco closed his eyes.

"What happen to Maddy an' Eduardo, an' Tiffany?" Jack asked him.

"Tiffany's dead," said Marco thickly. "Killed herself. Found a gun next to some dead cop an' shot herself in the head before we could stop her."

"Maddy?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her for days. Nobody has."

"An' Eduardo?"

"He was with Alena an' me when we got attacked by a zombie. Eduardo was the only one who didn't get hurt. No answer from 911. We managed to make it here, an' Eduardo went in to find a doctor… he never came back. I don't think he made it."

Jack peered into the hospital through the plate-glass doors; the lights were off and there were dead bodies all over the reception area. It looked as if the doctor was definitely out.

"I dunt think so either," said Jack quietly.

"I heard screams… horrible screams," said Marco. "I wanted to go inside an' find out what happened to him, but Alena was dyin'… I couldn't leave her, Jack. I couldn't let her die here all alone."

For the first time, Jack and Lisa's eyes travelled down to the thing that Marco was holding in his arms. From afar it had looked like a bundle of clothes, maybe a rucksack, but now they could see what it really was.

Cradled in his arms, like a baby, was Alena. Like Marco, she too was covered in blood – or at least, her clothes were. They couldn't see what kind of state Alena herself was in, as her face was pressed tightly against Marco's chest. However, it didn't look good. Her dark dreadlocks were matted together with blood, and presumably the rest of her wasn't in much better shape.

Lisa leaned in for a closer look, but Marco clutched Alena's body protectively, as if afraid that someone would try and take her away.

"No… don't…"

"Marco, it's okay, I won't hurt her," said Lisa. "Just - "

"No," said Marco slowly, shaking his head. "You don't wanna look at her. Trust me."

"Is she…?" Lisa began, but couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Marco nodded.

"Yeah. She's dead. She knew what was happenin' to her, an' she… she begged me to do it…"

At this point Lisa had to turn away. Marco's tortured expression was becoming unbearable to watch, and she couldn't stand looking into those haunted eyes any longer.

"She ask you to kill her?" said Jack.

"I didn't want to, Jack, but I… I had to… I swear I had to!" said Marco, sounding almost hysterical. "I couldn't let her turn into a zombie! Alena was like a sister to me… we grew up together… I had to do it!"

"'S okay, Marco," said Jack, trying not to look shaken by the outburst. He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know you hadda do it. Now Lise an' I gonna help you. We got somebody who know some medicine, an' she can fix you up real good - "

But Marco shook his head.

"No. No. It's too late, Jack. I'm done for. I'd have shot myself too, but there weren't enough bullets left. Only one. An' she was in so much pain, she was bleedin' to death, I had to help her…"

"I know," said Jack.

"Jack, please," gasped Marco, clutching at Jack's sleeve and making Jack almost jump out of his skin with fright. "You gotta help me…"

Lisa turned round. Christina and Amber weren't shouting any more, but they looked like they were just inches away from killing each other, and Renée, thrust unwillingly into the role of peacekeeper, was looking flustered.

"Renée!" Lisa shouted.

Renée looked only too relieved to be excused from refereeing Amber and Christina's grudge match, and she hurried over at once.

"What is – oh…"

Renée had just seen Marco, covered with blood and clutching a dead body. Professionalism soon took over her initial shock, however, and she began examining Marco.

"Well you've certainly been through the wars," said Renée, trying to make light of the situation. "Haven't you, Mr… uh, what's your name?"

It was a moment before Marco answered.

"Marco… Marco Alvarez," he said weakly.

"What did this, Marco?" Renée asked him. "Dogs, zombies…?"

"… Zombie…"

"When?" Her tone was suddenly sharper, more urgent.

"I… I'm not… don't know…"

"This morning? This afternoon? Tonight? Think, Marco."

"Afternoon…"

Jack and Lisa suddenly realised why Renée sounded so concerned. Marco was starting to look and sound confused, and it was taking longer and longer for him to reply. Simple questions required a lot of thought, and his responses were rapidly degenerating into short one- or two-word replies - not yet monosyllabic, but well on the way there.

As Renée continued talking to Marco, Lisa and Jack exchanged a look.

"Zombie?" Lisa mouthed.

"No yet," Jack mouthed back. "But he gonna be soon."

Marco's eyes were starting to glaze over a little, but he tried hard to focus on Renée.

"Tell me…" he said, apparently with some difficulty. "Am… am I gonna die?"

Renée opened her mouth; Jack and Lisa were expecting her to give the standard response of "No, of course not, you're going to be just fine", and for a moment it seemed that she would, but then Renée appeared to decide against it. She opted for an honest answer instead.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Marco, but there's nothing I can do for you. There's too much damage here. You're going to die. And by the looks of things, that's only going to be the start of your problems."

Marco didn't look at all surprised.

"Infected?" he said, presumably referring to himself.

Renée nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Jack?" said Marco. "Help me… please…"

Jack leaned forward, and took his friend's bloodstained hand. He held it in his hands and clutched it tightly, for what little comfort and reassurance it would bring Marco.

"Tell me what I gotta do, an' I do it," said Jack solemnly.

Once again, Marco's body was racked with the horrible coughs that signalled an early death by T-Virus infection.

"Please… kill me…" he managed to gasp.

The blood drained away abruptly from Jack's face, and his mouth dropped open in horror.

"No way," said Jack, shaking his head furiously. "No way I gonna kill an _amigo_."

"Then… give me a gun, I'll… do it myself…"

"No," Jack protested. "That be no diff'rent from me doin' it."

"Here, kid, allow me," said a voice right behind them.

Jack and Lisa turned round to see who was speaking, just in time to see Christina take out her handgun and point it at Marco.

"_No_!" yelled Jack, as her finger curled around the trigger -

Too late. Blood spattered the hospital's glass doors and the wall behind Marco.

For a moment Marco looked surprised, then he slumped sideways and hit the ground, Alena's body still in his arms.

There was a moment of terrible silence.

"Oh, God…" said Lisa in a very small voice. Renée sat there, still staring at the spot where Marco had drawn his final breath. And Jack…

"You," he growled.

"Yes, me. And?" said Christina, arching an eyebrow.

"An' that be my friend you just shoot dead, you _bitch_!" yelled Jack, and launched himself at Christina.

He was so angry that he'd completely forgotten that he was attacking someone with a gun in her hand, and things might have gone very badly for Jack if Amber and Renée hadn't managed to restrain him in time.

"Let me go!" bawled Jack, struggling to break free. "I gonna kill that bitch just like she kill my friend!"

"Oh no you're not," said Amber firmly. "Killing people is _wrong_. That's one thing they were very definite about back in the academy. If you kill Corporal Ardizzone, I'll have to arrest you. That means I'll have to drag your sorry ass back to the RPD, and since the whole place is crawling with zombies, I really don't want to have to do that. Okay?"

Jack wasn't putting up much of a fight now, except possibly with his emotions; he looked as if he was about to cry.

"She – she just shoot Marco…"

"It was wrong, I know, but she did it for the right reasons, Jack," said Amber gently. "Would you have let your friend turn into a zombie?"

Tears were rolling down Jack's cheeks. He shook his head.

"No… I never would… but I would try an' save him…"

"You couldn't have saved him, Jack," Amber told him. "Nobody could have. He was going to die anyway, and he knew it. He just wanted to die quickly, with dignity and a good friend at his side. That was why he asked you to help him die in peace."

"How can you say that? When you just tell me that it be wrong to kill somebody? How can you say that?" sobbed Jack.

"It's not right to kill anybody. But in some cases it can be the lesser of two evils," said Amber.

Jack was still crying.

"Hey, you're a good kid, Jack," Amber told him, putting an arm around his shoulders for reassurance. "And I understand. It's not easy, making decisions like that. I don't blame you for not wanting to choose how Marco died. But you don't have to worry about it any more. He's gone to a better place now."

__

Wherever he's gone, it's got to be better than here, she added in the privacy of her own mind.

"Don't cry, Jack," put in Renée. "Just be glad he's free. No more fear, no more pain, no more zombies. He's safe from that."

Jack sniffed, and wiped his eyes. "Yeah."

Meanwhile, Lisa had been watching Christina closely as the little drama had unfolded. All the while, Christina had barely showed even a flicker of emotion – as always, nothing seemed to bother her or affect her in any way. Lisa wondered what had happened in Christina's life to make her so jaded, so aloof. What could possibly happen that could deaden someone to the world like that?

She didn't know. She wasn't sure if she wanted to, either. Whatever it was, it must have been something terrible.

Christina stiffened suddenly; she'd heard something.

"What?" said Lisa.

"I hear frogs," said Christina sharply. "We need to leave. Now."

"I didn't hear a thing," said a sceptical-looking Amber, but after listening for a moment or two, she agreed that she could hear something too, and conceded that it might be a good idea to leave fairly promptly.

As one, they started to hurry away, but then Lisa heard something emerge from the bushes on the other side of the park fence – and a loud thud indicating that the something had landed on the sidewalk. Despite her better judgement, she stopped and turned around, wanting to see what it was.

There was a giant frog-creature squatting on the sidewalk outside the park. With an almighty leap, it jumped right across the street and landed neatly outside the entrance of the hospital. It hopped towards the bodies of Marco and Alena in the doorway, eyed them for a moment, then opened its mouth wide…

"Lisa!" hissed Amber, and Lisa found herself being grabbed by the hand. Suddenly grateful for the distraction, Lisa allowed herself to be led away from the grisly sight of two corpses being swallowed whole by an oversized frog, and she and Amber hurried around the corner and after their companions.

Christina, Renée and Jack were leaning against a nearby wall; they straightened up expectantly at Lisa and Amber's approach.

"Giant frog-creature?" said Christina.

Amber nodded.

"I thought as much," said the mercenary. "Well, we're almost there. Umbrella HQ is not far from here – now we need to go round the clock tower, take a right into Warren Street, and then the second left, and we're there. Then - "

She was interrupted by a scream and several bursts of gunfire. It was coming from inside the clock tower.

"Wasn't that an assault rifle I just heard?" said Amber, frowning.

Christina and Renée glanced uneasily at each other, then at the imposing bulk of St Michael's Clock Tower.

"Change of plan," said Christina suddenly, and she looked up at the clock tower again. "We're going in…"


	28. The Clock Tower

****

28: The Clock Tower

St Michael's Clock Tower loomed in front of them, a dark silhouette against the sky. The clouds parted slightly, just enough for a small amount of moonlight to light the edges of the leaden clouds that covered the sky. Far from being a comfort, it only served to make the scene even more ominous.

"Creepy," said Renée, speaking for them all.

"Creepy or not, we're going in," said Amber, mentally pulling herself together. "Someone in there needs our help."

A flock of crows sprung up into the air at their approach. Cawing, the birds circled the clock tower once or twice before coming to land on the roof.

Christina crossed the courtyard briskly, and tried the front doors. They were locked. This was duly reported back to the others.

"Strange," said Renée, frowning. "I thought the other units were meant to be assembling survivors inside the main hall, ready for the rescue operation. Why is it locked?"

"What rescue operation?" said Amber sharply.

"Well, that's why we were sent here," said Renée. "To rescue civilians. The plan was to search the city for survivors, round them up and bring them here, then ring the bell at the top of the tower to signal the rescue helicopter and begin the evacuation."

Amber's cynical expression said it all. She clearly didn't believe a word.

"So where is everyone?" said Lisa.

"Maybe we be the only ones who survive," said Jack.

"No, that can't be possible," said Lisa. "I'm sure some other people must have made it out."

"There another way in?" asked Jack.

"A side entrance. Over here," said Christina, leading them towards a smaller door on their left-hand side. Fortunately this door was unlocked, and despite the creaking of hinges, it opened easily.

It was pitch black inside the room, but this didn't seem to bother Christina. She put her hand inside the room and felt around for a light switch. A soft light replaced the darkness, and she led them inside.

----------

Lisa had visited St Michael's Clock Tower once, many years ago, with her parents. It had been some sort of official event - she couldn't remember why her parents had been invited, or why they'd brought her along. Though most of the evening's events were now beyond her recollection, a few things still stood out in her mind.

There had been music and candlelight and dancing, and she'd been bored stiff because she was the only child there. Her mother – elegant in a long bottle-green evening dress, and smelling of expensive perfume – had spent all night talking to someone called Dr Aylett. Or was it Haderlitz?

Not long after going up to the Mayor and loudly announcing that his tuxedo made him look like a great big penguin, her father had hurriedly ushered her into this room with a notebook and pencil so that she could sit here and draw quietly, and not get in anybody's way.

Oh yes, she remembered this place. The music room, with its grand piano and large, arched windows, a haven of peace and quiet after the noisy foyer. She'd sat on the floor by the windows and happily drawn pictures until she'd used up every page of the notebook, but on looking up, she'd screamed, dropped everything and run back into the foyer – through the frosted glass of the windows, she could have sworn she'd seen a monster.

Lisa looked at the windows, and shivered. Of course, as her father had patiently explained back then, the "monster" had been nothing more than a rhododendron bush. But this time around, Lisa knew that there really were monsters outside, and she half expected zombies to burst into the room at any moment.

"It just be me, or you get the feelin' that zombies gonna burst into the room any moment?" said Jack to Renée.

"Yeah," Renée agreed.

Lisa looked even more nervous, and inched away from the windows. Her eyes darted to every corner of the music room, watching to see if anything nasty was about to leap out from some hidden crevice.

There was a noise behind her, and she whirled round.

"_Whatwasthat_?" she gasped, in a single breath.

"Middle C, I believe," said Christina calmly.

Amber had opened the piano lid, and had pressed one of the ivory keys for no real reason other than idle curiosity.

"Sorry," she said hastily, seeing Lisa's expression.

"Can you play the piano, Amber?" said Lisa, when she finally managed to catch her breath.

"Not really. I only know "Chopsticks"," said Amber. "But my friend Jill from STARS, now _there's_ someone who can play the piano. You should hear her play Beethoven - beautiful. But she won't play "Moonlight Sonata" any more."

"Why not?" said Lisa.

"Bad memories," said Amber simply.

"We need to get through this door," said Renée, pointing to the door on their right. "It leads through the dining room and into the main foyer. Problem is, it's locked."

"Why dunt you just break it down?" said Jack.

"Because we might need it later," said Renée, as she fished through her pockets for her trusty lockpick. "That's why. Zombies can't open doors, and a closed door will keep them busy for a long time. And if we have zombies on our tail, that's a valuable advantage, believe me."

"What's in that other room?" said Lisa, pointing to a door on the other side of the music room.

"Oh, that? That's the chapel," said Renée. "Safest room in the building, structurally. First place I'd check for survivors."

"Should we check it, then?" said Lisa.

"I would," said Renée.

"If not for survivors, then for supplies," added Amber. "They mostly use the chapel for storage these days, our own dear Mayor being the godless heathen that we've all come to know and love. We might find something useful."

She listened at the door for a moment, before flinging it open and yelling "Freeze!" as she pointed her empty gun at…

… an empty room. No survivors, but on the other hand, no zombies either. Both relieved and disappointed, Amber lowered her gun. With Jack and Lisa following close behind her, she stepped through the door into the chapel.

It was a small room, made smaller by the amount of furniture it contained – a couple of pews, an altar covered with a blue cloth, a miniature pipe organ, and a cupboard for whatever ecclesiastical supplies were required for services. Not that many services were held here, judging by the smell; the air was stale and full of dust.

"Smells like nobody's been here in years," Lisa remarked.

"Well, somebody's been here recently," said Amber. "Very recently. Look at the candles."

For the first time, Lisa noticed the candles burning in the candlesticks on either side of the altar. If someone had lit them and left them to burn for days, they would have burned right down by now – but these were new candles. They'd only just been lit.

"I wonder who light 'em all?" said Jack, looking around.

"I don't know, but it's a shame they didn't move all this junk out too," said Amber, scowling at an old typewriter and a large iron chest placed near the door. "Religious or not, it's not right to treat a place of worship like a closet."

"You think there be anythin' useful in there?" said Jack, pointing to the chest.

"Only one way to find out," said Amber, and took hold of the lid.

The hinges squealed in protest as Amber opened the chest. She felt around inside it for a little while.

"Anything in there?" said Lisa.

"Nothing – no, wait, there _is_ something in here," said Amber, scrabbling around in the bottom of the chest.

She brought out a plain wooden box, large but quite flat, and laid it on the table next to the typewriter. On removing the lid, they discovered a note, a box of handgun bullets, and a long, thin object wrapped in sackcloth.

As Amber started unwrapping the object, Lisa picked up the note and read it aloud.

"_To the finder of this note: beware. There are evil things in this place. I leave this item here in the hope that it may save your life. I fear that it cannot save mine. M.D_."

Lisa stared at the paper for a moment.

"I wonder who M.D. is?" she said to herself.

"Who cares? Look what he left us!" said Amber, eyes shining, and showed them the item that had been hidden inside the sackcloth. Jack and Lisa's puzzled faces cleared instantly as they recognised the object.

"A shotgun?" said Lisa.

"Neat!" said Jack.

"Looks like a Benelli M3," said Amber, giving the weapon the benefit of a closer inspection. "Hmm… fairly well-maintained. Doesn't look like there's anything wrong with it. And you know what, it's loaded too. Talk about divine intervention, huh? Thanks, God," she added, with a glance at the altar. "We owe you one."

Lisa and Jack agreed.

"Yeah."

"Praise the Lord."

"Oh, and pass the ammunition," said Amber, reaching for the handgun bullets.

----------

By the time they left the chapel, the dining-room door was open. There was no sign of Christina or Renée.

"Perhaps they went on ahead," said Lisa.

They went into the dining room. Lisa vaguely remembered this room too, though she didn't remember it being this dark. The lighting was very subdued, and the décor didn't brighten the room either. The top half of the walls was painted a cool grey with some lighter grey for decoration, and the lower half was wooden panelling; grey and dark green, the green area painted to look like marble. The carved dining table and chairs were a dark mahogany, and the black and white floor tiles radiated cold. The fireplace at the end of the room, by the windows, was cold and dark and clearly hadn't been used for some time.

Lisa rubbed her bare arms, more out of habit than the warmth it would bring. She thought of the shirt Jack had given her, but it was still damp from the sewers; putting it on would only make her feel colder. Better to leave it tied round her waist.

"How come the table be set for dinner?" said Jack, pointing to the cutlery and china laid out neatly on the table.

"Just for decoration, I think," said Amber, glancing at the table. "I don't think anyone's actually eaten dinner in this place for years."

She made her way over to the double doors, and opened one of them very cautiously, as if afraid something would jump out at her. Nothing happened. Amber breathed out gently, and she went through into the foyer of the clock tower, accompanied by Lisa and Jack.

Though she remembered it well, the foyer felt unfamiliar to Lisa. The last time she'd seen it, it had been brightly lit and warm, full of people and noise. Now it was big and empty, full of shadows, and quiet except for the sound of the wind outside. There was a draught coming from somewhere - probably the front doors.

It was a huge, imposing room, dominated by the wide staircase leading up to the upper floor. There were lights burning dimly up above, and in between the arches that supported the gallery upstairs, but they seemed to make the shadows darker.

"This place gives me the creeps," Amber muttered. "Big old spooky waste of public money."

Her voice echoed a little in the empty hall.

"Where are Renée and Christina?" said Lisa.

Amber stepped forward, stood in front of the desk placed in the centre of the room, and called:

"Hello?"

Hello…lo…

"Renée? Christina?"

Christina…tina…

"Where are you?"

Are you… you…

"Right here."

Amber yelped, and turned round. Renée was sitting by one of the pillars, calmly reading a piece of paper. It would have been a perfectly normal scene, if it hadn't been for the presence of an Umbrella mercenary's corpse, lying in a pool of drying blood just inches from Renée's feet.

"Sorry," said Renée, not looking up from the paper. "Didn't mean to scare you. You okay?"

"Aside from a brush with heart failure, couldn't be better," said Amber wryly. "What are you reading? And what happened to him?"

"To who?" called Jack.

He and Lisa went over to Amber and Renée to investigate; they both recoiled at the sight of the dead mercenary.

"Whoa!" said Jack. "What happen to _that_ guy?"

"Bullet wound to the head, by the look of it," said Renée, her eyes not leaving the paper once. "Bad news for him, good news for us; at least we know he won't come back as a zombie."

"What are you reading?" said Amber again. "Is it so interesting that you can't tear yourself away and make eye contact?"

"Just going over these operation instructions," said Renée. "Found them in that dead guy's hand."

"What do they say?" said Amber.

"Not that much more than what I told you," said Renée, finally looking up. "Though it does say that we should give priority to Umbrella employees and their families."

"Why am I not surprised?" said Amber under her breath. Aloud she said:

"That applies to you, right, Lisa?"

"That's right," said Lisa.

"Then you're our ticket out of here," said Amber. "Jack's your best friend, so you can't leave him behind, and I'd better come with you because… uh…"

"'Cause my aunt be dead an' I got nobody to look after me," supplied Jack.

"Yeah, that's right," said Amber promptly. "I'm a police officer - got to protect the innocent, and all that."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much, if I were you," said Renée. "Doesn't look like the rescue helicopter's going to be crowded. I mean, who'll it be? Me, you, Jack, Amber, Christina…"

"My parents," interrupted Lisa.

"Yeah, them too," said Renée vaguely. "And Sarge and Mikhail and Carlos - if they're still alive, that is. I shouldn't think we're likely to run into anyone else on our way over to HQ."

"Whoever screamed – you think they're still alive?" said Lisa hesitantly.

"I doubt it," said Renée. "But Christina's right, we have to investigate."

"Where she at, anyway?" said Jack.

Right on cue, the door on the other side of the foyer opened, and Christina walked in.

"There you are," she said disapprovingly, on seeing Lisa, Jack and Amber. "What kept you? The chapel's small, it shouldn't take you that long to search it. Did you find anything?"

Amber brandished the shotgun, and grinned.

"Yep."

"Oh." Christina looked surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered her icy composure. "Well, I'm sure that will come in handy. Renée, the bedroom's clear, so are the living room and the library. The only door left is a green one in the library, but it's locked. I need to borrow your lockpick."

"No, I'll do it," said Renée. "I'm quicker."

"You three want to stay here?" said Christina to the others. "Or are you going to come with us?"

"We gonna come with you," said Jack, before Amber or Lisa could respond. He didn't particularly want to stay in the same room as a dead man. Apart from anything else, the sight of all the blood was making him feel sick again.

"Very well. But you're to stay close. Wander off again and you could end up like our friend over there," said Christina, with a nod in the direction of the dead mercenary.

"What, with bullets in our heads?" said Amber mockingly. "Please."

"Hey, guys, look at this," said Lisa suddenly. While the others had been talking, she'd noticed something interesting about the late mercenary, and she'd crouched down next to his corpse so she could get a closer look.

In his hand was – well, she wasn't sure what it was, but it looked like some kind of weapon, possibly a grenade launcher. She picked it up, but she barely had time to look at it before it was snatched out of her hands.

"Careful with that!" snapped Christina.

"What is it?" said Lisa.

"I don't know, and that's why you need to be careful," said Christina, as she examined the weapon. "It could go off at any minute."

"Could it be any use to us?" said Amber hopefully.

"I doubt it," came the curt reply. "This is a mine launcher – a prototype weapon."

"So? What's wrong with that?" said Amber.

"I never trust prototype weapons," said Christina. "When you're in the field, you want a reliable, tried and tested weapon, not an experiment. Experiments have a nasty habit of blowing up in your face when you least expect it."

Christina handed the weapon to Amber, who took it gingerly.

"Personally, I wouldn't touch this thing with a fifty-foot pole," Christina continued. "Though if you're willing to take your chances with it, then that's entirely up to you. Just don't come whining to me when you've blown your own arm off."

"Uh," said Amber, who suddenly looked very uneasy, "Actually, I think we'd better leave this right here."

She laid the weapon down very carefully next to the mercenary's corpse, and backed away.

"Let's get a move on, then," said Christina.

Christina and Renée led the way across the foyer and towards the door on the other side. As usual, Amber followed behind. Last of all were Jack and Lisa, glancing uneasily back at the mercenary lying dead on the floor. They wondered if whoever else was in the clock tower had suffered a similar fate, or whether there was a chance that they might still be alive…

----------

"Hmm…"

Renée was kneeling next to a green door, peering into the keyhole. Behind her, the others watched intently. They were standing in the clock tower library, trying not to choke on the dust and cobwebs, waiting for Renée to pick the lock.

"Well?" said Christina impatiently. "Can you open it?"

"This could take a while," said Renée thoughtfully. "Haven't seen a lock like this one before. Must be a pretty unusual key…"

Christina scowled, and folded her arms. Jack just sighed, and sat down heavily on a nearby chair. Meanwhile, Amber and Lisa wandered around the room in search for something to pass the time, having lost interest in Renée's work.

"What's through that door?" said Lisa, pointing to another door at the opposite end of the library.

"Living room," said Amber. "Which leads into a bedroom. God knows who'd want to sleep in this mausoleum, though. I certainly wouldn't."

"Why there be a bedroom in a clock tower? An' what they use this place for, anyway?" said Jack.

"Beats me," said Amber, idly picking up an open book and flicking through the pages. "Oh, wait, there's something here about it. Take a look."

She handed the book to Jack and Lisa, indicating the passage that they ought to look at. Jack took the book, positioning it so that Lisa could see it from over his shoulder, and they started to read.

St Michael's Clock Tower was built in 1857 to celebrate the twinning of Raccoon City with Bad Waschbär, a small spa town located in the southwest of Germany. The clock tower - a perfect replica of Bad Waschbär's clock tower - was constructed on the site previously occupied by St Michael's Catholic Church, which was destroyed by lightning in 1851. The work began in March 1857, and the clock tower was completed shortly before the end of the year. Unfortunately, due to unspecified mechanical problems, the bell of St Michael's Clock Tower has tolled for no-one since the winter of 1859.

Originally intended to be the official residence of the Mayor, the clock tower was only used for this purpose by James Runcie, the 8th Mayor of Raccoon City (1862-4) and then only during the warm summer months. Since then, St Michael's Clock Tower has been used mostly on official occasions, though it is also open to the public on the second and third Wednesdays of each month.

"Oh," said Lisa. "That's interesting."

But her comment went unnoticed – the others were too busy watching Christina complain loudly about how long the work was taking.

"We're wasting time. How much longer is this going to _take_?" she snapped.

"Well, if you think you can do it faster, I'd like to see you try," said Renée sourly. "This is an _extremely_ difficult lock."

"Let me try it. If I don't have this door open in two minutes, then you're welcome to take over," said Christina.

Grumbling, Renée moved aside and allowed Christina to take over the work. She sat down on the floor next to Jack.

"How are you feeling, Jack?" Renée asked him.

"Okay, I guess," said Jack, although this wasn't strictly true. His arm was still hurting, and squinting at the book's small print in the library's dim light had made his headache worse.

"How's your arm doing? Mind if I take a look?" asked Renée.

"Go ahead," said Jack, with a shrug – then he cried out, and clutched his injured arm. The act of shrugging had caused a burst of searing, white-hot pain to run up his arm.

Lisa and Amber hurried to his side at once.

"Jack?"

"Are you okay?"

"What's wrong?"

"My arm really hurts…" said Jack, through gritted teeth.

In an instant Renée had retrieved the first aid kit and unwound the bandages on Jack's arm. She winced at the sight of the injury – despite her treatment, it looked a lot worse. The arm was swollen and sore, and the skin around the wound was far too pink. The wound itself was still bleeding, and a foul-smelling yellowish substance was starting to ooze from it.

"That must hurt like crazy," remarked Amber.

"No kiddin'," said Jack weakly as Renée set to work on his arm, cleaning the wound and disinfecting the area with First Aid Spray. He flinched at the feel of the latter – the spray now stung more than ever.

"Sorry, Jack," said Renée, as she saw him wince.

"Dunt worry 'bout it," said Jack, biting his lip until the pain subsided.

Renée had just finished putting fresh bandages on Jack's arm when she realised that the two minutes she'd given her colleague to unlock the green door had now passed.

"Hey, Christina, time's up," she called. "Now it's my t – oh…"

Christina was standing next to the door, lockpick in hand, looking satisfied.

"Finished," she said. There was the very faintest hint of a smile on her face.

"Oh… that's good. Thanks," said Renée, as Christina dropped the lockpick into her hand. "Well, looks like we're ready to go."

She took hold of the door handle and pulled open the door. "Now we need to - "

Lisa couldn't see very much from where she was standing, but whatever was beyond the door was clearly horrible, because it made Renée stop dead. It was some time before she turned round to face her companions.

"Remind me again," said Renée, her voice steady but her face pale. "Which one of you was afraid of spiders?"

Dead silence. Then Amber timidly raised her hand.

"Ah," said Renée. "Because we have a slight problem on our hands. The problem being, the corridor is full of spiders the size of small cars."

The colour drained abruptly from Amber's face, and she started to shake.

"Nnngh…"

"Come again?" said Renée.

"I think that means she doesn't want to go in there," said Lisa. Turning to Amber, she said:

"Maybe you'd better stay here while we go and check it out."

Amber nodded feebly.

"Y-yeah," she said, after remembering that clenched jaws and a closed mouth were not good for lucid speech. "I - I think I'll just stay here and wait for you guys."

"Ahem," said Christina. "Might I draw your attention to the ceiling?"

Their eyes travelled upwards in unison. Crawling all over the library ceiling were hundreds of brown spiders, each one roughly the size of a tennis ball. Some of them were working their way to the edge of the ceiling and down the walls.

Amber screamed, and clutched Christina by the shoulders.

"Don't let them get me!"

"Get _off_, will you?" said Christina irritably, and tried ineffectively to shake her off.

"Get me out of here!" shrieked Amber. "Kill them! Kill _me_! Something! Anything! Just make them go away! _Please_!"

"Stop babbling!" Christina ordered.

"I hate spiders, oh God I hate spiders, they're going to crawl all over me and get in my hair and bite me and - "

Christina's eyes narrowed. She'd had enough. She drew back her fist, and punched Amber right between the eyes. Amber stood there for a second, swaying, then her green eyes unfocused and she pitched backwards with a little sigh.

"I think you just kill her," said Jack, after an uncomfortable pause.

Christina looked down at Amber's limp form.

"No, she's still breathing," she reported.

"Was that really necessary?" said Lisa crossly.

"Absolutely," said Christina. "It'll be much easier getting through that corridor now that we don't have that hysterical arachnophobe gibbering in terror and trying to run off all the time. Besides, we need that shotgun she's carrying."

"But why did you have to punch her?" argued Lisa.

"Because I don't have any animal tranquillisers," retorted Christina.

"Oh, very clever," said Lisa sarcastically. "Now do me a favour, and explain exactly how we're supposed to get Amber through that corridor, now that you've knocked her out. What are we going to do? I suppose you'll expect us to – to – oh, I don't know, drag her by the feet or something. Is that what you want us to do? Drag her by the feet?"

Christina looked thoughtful.

-----------

"Nice goin', Lise," said Jack bitterly. "Why dint you just keep you mouth shut?"

"Sorry," said Lisa.

She regretted using sarcasm on Christina, and silently vowed not to do it again. Either Christina didn't understand it, or she understood it only too well and didn't appreciate it from underlings. Lisa suspected the latter was the reason why Christina had decided to take Lisa's suggestion only too literally.

Amber's head bounced off the wall as Lisa and Jack dragged her unconscious form behind them.

"Careful, Jack," warned Lisa. "You're letting her head hit the wall."

"Oh, come on. Ain't like she gonna notice, the state she be in," said Jack, rolling his eyes. "B'sides, you ever try draggin' somebody by they feet when you only got one good arm? I like to see how good you could do it."

Lisa flushed. "Sorry. I forgot about your arm."

"Hurry up," barked Christina, from further ahead.

"Go to hell," muttered Jack and Lisa together. When they realised they'd spoken in unison, they exchanged a conspiratorial grin.

It was then that they saw the dead mercenary, caught like a fly in a giant spider's web in the corner. Limbs bound together by thick cobwebs, the dead man stared blankly at them from his final resting place, his features contorted with agony; his mouth locked forever in a silent scream.

"Ugh," said Lisa softly. "That's horrible."

Jack said nothing, but silently wondered if he would ever forget the ghastly sight of the dead man trapped in the web, with the signs of his final torment only too plain to see. He had a nasty feeling that he wouldn't.

They jumped at the sound of gunfire. Renée and Christina were up ahead, firing round after round of assault-rifle ammunition into giant spiders. Every now and then they heard the _blam_ of shotgun fire, Christina having taken the shotgun after leaving Amber in Jack and Lisa's care.

The sound stopped after a while.

"Sounds like it's safe to go after them now," said Lisa.

"Yeah," said Jack.

They started to walk again, pulling Amber along behind them.

"Jack," said Lisa, after a minute. "How's your arm?"

"Still hurts," said Jack. "But Renée do a real good job. It dunt hurt so much."

"That's good," said Lisa.

A pause.

"Listen, I'm sorry you got hurt," said Lisa quietly. "It's all my fault. I should have been more careful."

"Dunt you worry bout it," said Jack. "You be my best friend – I hadda do somethin'. No way I could stand there an' let you get hurt."

"But you nearly died, and you saved my life - I didn't even thank you," said Lisa.

"Well, you save my life too," said Jack. "You blow that big zombie sky-high, so I think we can call it even. Right?"

Lisa smiled a little. "Right. But thanks anyway."

"Hey, you welcome," said Jack, and he smiled too.

They were almost at the end of the corridor now. Jack and Lisa carefully manoeuvred Amber around the twitching remains of a giant spider on the floor, and stopped outside a door at the corridor's end.

Christina had already barged through the door, but Renée was thoughtful enough to hold it open, so that Lisa and Jack could get Amber through.

The first thing they saw when they stepped into the room was another creature with a long tongue, like the one they'd seen in the sewers. They just had time to notice that it was wounded in the split second before Christina blasted it into oblivion with the shotgun.

Blood spilled from the creature's broken body onto the Persian carpet beneath it. Now that it was dead, the shock of seeing the creature passed, and Jack and Lisa started to notice little details about the room they were in.

Three statues of goddesses at the end of the room. Junk piled up against one wall, and on the opposite wall, three paintings inset with clocks. And in the corner, huddled together, a mercenary and a young girl. Both were dead.

Lisa didn't want to say what she was thinking, but she felt it needed to be said.

"Jack," she said. "That girl… isn't that…?"

"Yeah. Almond," said Jack quietly.

He and Lisa let Amber's legs drop to the floor, and they went over to the bodies of Almond and the unknown soldier.

They both lay there peacefully, as if they'd just fallen asleep. Almond's blonde head rested on the mercenary's chest, her eyes closed, her expression serene. The mercenary's arm was around her, holding her close to him as if he was trying to protect her. He was frowning slightly, but the look on his face showed no suggestion of fear or pain. Only their stillness and a few smears of blood indicated that they would never wake again.

"That thing… it must've got 'em," said Jack. "Poor Almond."

"Friend of yours?" said Renée.

"Yeah," said Jack distantly, staring at the two bodies in the corner. Almond and the mercenary who'd died trying to shield her from harm. He wondered if they had died needlessly.

"You think," he began, "if we – we get here sooner – we coulda saved 'em?"

Renée shook her head. "No, Jack. I don't think we could have saved them. I think they died before we even got inside the clock tower."

From the look on Jack's face, Lisa thought he was going to cry again, or maybe let out a scream of rage and punch the wall in frustration, as she felt like doing. They'd come all this way, wasted so much time trying to get into this room, and for what? Two dead bodies and a monster. At this rate they would _never_ get to Umbrella's headquarters!

But Jack just sighed heavily. He said nothing; he just looked at the dead creature in the centre of the room, and then back at Almond and the mercenary. A few more shots, and they would have killed that thing. For the sake of a few bullets, they could have survived. Instead, they'd died here in this room.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Ain't there _anybody_ else left alive in this town?"

He suddenly noticed something tucked behind his friend's corpse. Moving her legs gently aside, he found a duffel bag, which presumably belonged to her. Hating himself for it, Jack opened the bag and sifted through the contents for anything that could be useful.

A hairbrush, a change of clothes, a Walkman and some tapes, a purse. A handful of other items that had probably been important to Almond, but were of no use in a survival situation. And, right at the bottom, a small book.

Jack opened it. The first page was marked:

"Almond Nicholls' Diary"

He suddenly felt guilty about reading it. A diary was private, after all, and he had no right to read it. On the other hand, Almond was dead now, and how else would he find out what had brought her here, to the clock tower of all places?

Curiosity triumphed, and Jack began flicking through the pages of the diary until he reached a fairly recent entry.

September 24th, 1998

They declared martial law today. My parents and I tried to get out of town, but they've closed off all the roads, and there's no way out of town. We're stuck in here, with no way of escaping from the zombies. Why have they done this? Do they want us all to die?

Jack turned the page.

September 25th, 1998

Jack's aunt is in hospital. She's infected with that weird disease. She'll probably die, but we didn't have the heart to tell Jack. He was so upset. His aunt is the only family he's got left – if she dies, he's got nobody. I don't know what would happen to him if she died.

Further down the page was another, very short, entry.

September 26th, 1998

Jack's aunt died. A zombie killed my mom this morning. We have to get out…

It was news to Jack that Almond's mother had been killed by a zombie. Stunned, he turned to the next page.

September 27th, 1998

This morning, Dad told me he'd heard a rumour about an escape plan, and the survivors meeting up at St Michael's Clock Tower. As we were leaving the house, we found Raphael. He's dead. I think most of the Street Rats are dead now. But either way, we're not sticking around to find out what happened to them all. We're leaving this town…

Jack broke off at this point to report the news of Raphael's death to Lisa, but Lisa didn't hear him – Amber had just regained consciousness, and Lisa was busy telling Amber where she was and what had happened to her. Jack shrugged, and continued reading.

Two mercenaries arrived at the clock tower shortly after we did. Apart from them, we're the only ones here. Dad's been acting kind of weird in the past hour or so. He keeps talking about how he wants to stay in the city with my mom. But Mom's dead – and this morning he was desperate to get out of town. What's the matter with him?

I talked to the mercenaries. Their names are Corporal Markus Duchovny and Corporal Boris Kirchner. Corporal Duchovny's kind of uptight, but the other one's quite nice. He said I reminded him of his sister. They talked to my dad about the escape plan – there's some kind of problem, something to do with ringing a bell, but Dad won't help them. He says he doesn't want to leave any more. I think he's gone nuts.

September 28th, 1998

Zombies broke into the clock tower early this morning, through the bedroom. My dad was sleeping in there last night, and he died. That makes me an orphan, I guess. The mercenaries killed all the zombies, but Corporal Duchovny died in the foyer. Corporal Kirchner and I have been here in the chapel all day, but we heard zombies outside a minute ago, and he doesn't think it's safe. We're going to the other side of the clock tower now, to hide in the room with the goddess statues – the back door of the clock tower's blocked by a giant bell, and if we lock the door into the room behind us, we should be pretty safe in there…

The diary ended there. It turned out that Almond and her mercenary friend had been wrong about their new hideout.

"They shoulda stayed in the chapel," said Jack to himself.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the room, Amber was not at all pleased.

"So what you're saying is that we shouldn't even have bothered coming here?" she said.

Lisa nodded.

"We wasted all that time, and I probably lost a whole lot of brain cells when _she_ knocked me out," said Amber, giving Christina a nasty look, "and now you're telling me that the people we came here to save died pretty much the second after they screamed? Well, remind me never to listen to Umbrella mercenaries again. They seem to have given us nothing but bad advice on this trip. And – hey, where's my shotgun?"

"I've got it," said Christina.

"You give that back right now! That's my shotgun!" shouted Amber.

"You know, they say that possession is nine-tenths of the law," said Christina, turning the shotgun over and over in her hands.

"Don't you talk to me about the law!" yelled Amber, scrambling to her feet. "I'm a police officer, damn it! Now give me that shotgun!"

Jack was tired of hearing them bicker pointlessly. He stood up, intending to intervene, but after a few steps he suddenly noticed that there were now _two_ disgruntled Ambers standing in front of him, and two impassive Christinas staring back at them. In the background were two Renées, both looking concerned about the impending argument, standing next to two equally beautiful Lisas.

Then all eight women suddenly blurred, and the rest of the room with it. Jack, quietly panicking, blinked frantically to bring everything back into focus.

"Jack?" he heard someone say. It could have been Lisa. "Jack, what's wrong?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak – but nothing came out except a strangled cry.

"Jack? What's the matter?"

"Hey Jack, are you okay?"

"Speak to us, please!"

"Looks like he's going to faint."

The last voice was unquestionably Christina's, and her prediction proved to be correct. Jack took one more step, before collapsing in a heap on the floor. The last thing he heard was Lisa screaming, and then everything went black.


	29. Into The Fire

**29: Into The Fire**

"What's wrong with him?" Lisa kept repeating, as Christina scooped up the unconscious Jack and flung him roughly over her shoulder.

"How on earth am I supposed to know?" said Christina irritably. "Here, take this. I can't carry it _and_ him."

Lisa suddenly found herself holding the shotgun of disputed ownership; not wishing to become part of the argument, she handed it over to Amber.

"I think this is yours," she said hastily.

Amber nodded. "Thanks."

"We're getting out of here," announced Christina. "There are no other survivors, and there's nothing to suggest that the proposed escape plan will be enacted any time soon, so I see no real point in staying here."

She strode towards the door, Jack's limp arms swinging behind her like pendulums with every step. Renée followed dutifully behind her; Amber paused for a moment, then did the same.

Lisa remained behind. She stood in the centre of the room, a room filled with death and the lingering ambience of dread, and stared in silence at the floor beneath her.

Her eyes came to rest on Almond's diary, which had fallen from Jack's hands as he collapsed. She bent down to pick it up, and started flicking through the pages without really knowing why.

"Poor Almond," Lisa murmured. "This isn't fair. You shouldn't have died."

She sighed, and closed the book.

"Nobody should have died," she said to herself.

A scream from further down the corridor indicated that Amber had just entered the spider-infested library. Lisa's theory was confirmed when she heard Christina bellow:

"SHUT UP, YOU STUPID WOMAN! THEY'RE JUST SPIDERS, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Lisa decided that she had better rejoin the group before Amber lost her mind or Christina lost her temper. With one backwards glance at Almond and the mercenary, she hurried out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her.

xxxxxxxxxx

There was nobody in the library. Lisa ran through the room, following the sound of voices. Every now and then she dodged to avoid falling spiders.

She found the others in the foyer. Christina was watching Renée fiddle with the lock on the main doors. Amber was standing next to her, looking resentful and slightly traumatised, presumably because of the library incident.

Something clicked in the lock, and hinges creaked as Renée pulled open the massive doors. Cold night air rushed into the foyer, raising goosebumps on Lisa's bare arms. She shivered.

"Okay, let's blow this joint," said Renée, and she stepped out into the night.

Christina took a few steps towards the door, but then stopped in the doorway. When Amber and Lisa saw why Christina had stopped, they both stifled shrieks of panic. Renée was walking right out into the courtyard, completely oblivious to the huge flock of zombie crows circling overhead.

"Renée…" said Amber uneasily. "I think you should come back inside…"

"Why?" said Renée, turning around. "We're leaving, just like Christina said we should. Umbrella headquarters, here we come!"

"No, Renée, you don't understand - " said Lisa, eyes widening with fright. The crows had spotted Renée, and were already descending from the skies.

"I understand perfectly. We're leaving before anything bad happens to us," said Renée. "Now come on, let's get out of here!"

"Renée, no, you have to get back inside!" Amber urged her. "Quickly!"

"Why? What's the matter?" said Renée, frowning.

"Just get inside!"

"But I don't understand," said Renée. She looked puzzled. "Why - ?"

There was a squawk overhead, and a black feather wafted slowly down from the sky. Renée stared at it. Realisation dawned, and her puzzlement gave way to alarm.

Very slowly, she looked up and saw the flock of crows swooping down towards her en masse - shrieking like the damned, the bloodlust glinting in sixty crimson eyes, beaks and talons already preparing to tear at human flesh.

Renée screamed, already fumbling for her handgun as she started to run. She spun round and started shooting, trying to kill the closest crows and keep back the others. One or two birds fell dead from the sky, spiralling lifelessly to the ground in a flurry of black feathers, but the others just kept coming faster, far faster than Renée could shoot.

"Renée, no! Just run!" yelled Lisa. "They fly too fast, you can't take them all!"

Renée clearly agreed. Abandoning the fight, she ran, ducking and dodging as crows swooped and lunged at her - but it was too late to run now, and the crows engulfed her.

The scene was turmoil - Renée screaming, half-concealed in clouds of dark feathers, surrounded by a whirling, deadly mass of vicious birds. The air rang with squawks and gunshots and Renée's desperate cries for help.

"Renée!" screamed Lisa.

Christina threw Jack to the ground and took up her handgun.

"Get him inside," she ordered. "Now. I'll take care of this."

"But Renée - " protested Lisa.

"_Now_!"

"I'll get him inside," said Amber. "I can carry him alone. Lisa, help Renée."

"Okay," said Lisa, trying to conceal her rising panic. She didn't know how she could save Renée - her shooting skills, while adequate for killing zombies, were nowhere near as good as Amber or Christina's, and she had no idea how she'd manage to pick off so many small, fast-moving targets without hurting Renée in the process.

On the other hand, she had no other option. She got out her handgun, her hands shaking, and looked back helplessly at Amber, who picked up Jack and rushed him inside to safety.

Christina had already started to pick off the crows, one by one. Calm despite the crisis, her hand was steady, her aim careful and her timing precise.

The counterattack only seemed to stir the crows up even more. Screeching with outrage, they redoubled their efforts.

Renée, panicking, started shooting at the crows again. A few more burst out of the screeching flock and tumbled to the ground, blood spattering the flagstones.

Then came the dreaded click of an empty handgun.

"No!" yelled Renée. "No, no - _no_!"

This last word ended in a scream as a crow slashed at her face with its talons. She howled, and raised her hands to her face - they came away a second later, covered in blood - then she dropped to her knees and raised her arms above her head, trying to shield herself from the onslaught.

"_Help me_!"

"This isn't working," said Christina, through gritted teeth. "There's too many of them. We have to work out another way to - "

She gave a start as she noticed Lisa running over to the mêlée, with Amber's discarded shotgun raised above her head like a club.

"What are you _doing_? Get back here!" Christina yelled. "You'll get killed!"

Lisa ignored her, and beat her way through the birds, swatting them away with the shotgun as if they were particularly troublesome flies.

A screaming crow flew right into her face. Lisa screamed back at it, and sent it tumbling into oblivion with one swipe of the shotgun.

Renée was crouched amid the chaos, trying to fend off the birds as best she could with her fists and an empty handgun - the crows weren't even giving her chance to reach for her rifle. Blood was trickling down her face.

"Renée, quick," said Lisa, holding out her hand. Renée took it gratefully, and Lisa helped her to her feet.

"Now run!" said Lisa.

Renée didn't need to be told twice. She and Lisa broke into a run.

Behind them, the crows had just realised that their prey had gone missing - with indignant screeches, they swiftly broke formation and regrouped, chasing after Lisa and the hapless Renée.

They could hear the birds' awful cries; the sounds of flapping wings; an occasional gunshot from Christina's direction. The birds were close behind them, and drawing closer, they knew that; they could almost feel the rush of air and the touch of feathers. Terrified, too scared to scream, they tried to ignore the pain of aching muscles, the dryness in their throats and the unbearable pounding of their hearts, and concentrated all their efforts on reaching the doors of the clock tower - it was just a few feet away, but fear seemed to lend extra distance to the journey.

"Ahhh!"

Renée stumbled over the edge of a flagstone, and fell flat on her face. Lisa, almost out of her mind with panic, grabbed Renée and hauled her back up, dragging her by the hand towards the doors.

_Nearly there__…__ nearly there__…_

The crows were almost on top of them now, and Christina was going back inside. For one terrible moment, Lisa thought she was going to close the doors on them and leave them out here to die.

She was therefore surprised when the woman did no such thing; instead she held the doors open and called out:

"Come on! Quickly!"

With one final burst of speed, Lisa hurled herself in through the doors, dragging Renée with her. They landed in the foyer, flat on their faces; they both looked up just in time to see Christina slam the doors shut.

There was a series of rapid thuds, like small bodies hitting the doors, then all was quiet.

Renée took a deep breath.

"Goddamn it!" she yelled, scrambling to her feet and pounding on the doors. "Why are you doing this to us? Why? What did we do to deserve this?"

She sank to the floor.

"There's no way out… we're stuck here," she said hopelessly. "We're going to die."

"No, we're not," said Lisa, although secretly she thought Renée was right. The outlook was not good; there was no way they could escape, little or no possibility of rescue, and no chance whatsoever that the crows would just fly away. No, they'd wait outside until she and the others finally emerged, and then they'd strike… and it would be game over for the weary group of survivors.

"Yes, we are," said Renée gloomily. "Face it, Lisa. We're doomed."

Christina scowled. "We're not doomed until _I_ say so, Private Lavelle. Now get up this instant!"

A morose Renée got to her feet.

"All right," she said. "What do you propose we do?"

"We find a safe location within the building and work out an escape plan," said Christina. "We're going to have to get out of this place at some point, crows or no crows."

They all jumped at the sound of screams and gunfire.

"Amber!" they cried in unison, and rushed towards the door leading to the library. At the same time, a dishevelled, flushed-looking Amber rushed out of the library and almost collided with them.

"GOD, I HATE SPIDERS!" she shrieked.

"Somebody needs some Prozac," muttered Renée.

Lisa had once seen the psychiatric ward of the hospital her parents had worked at; none of the people there had looked half as deranged as Amber did right now. She waited until Amber looked marginally less psychotic before addressing her.

"Amber… are you okay?"

"What?" Amber shook her head, and suddenly she looked her old self again, although she was still breathing harder than she normally did. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just kind of took everything out on a bunch of spiders back there."

"Feel better?"

"Much. What's the plan now?"

"Find someplace safe to sit, and work out our next move," said Renée. "As far as any place in this tower is safe, anyway."

"Where's Jack?" said Lisa, suddenly remembering him.

"I put him in the bedroom. I'll take you to him now," said Amber. To the others, she said:

"I suggest we hole up in the living room. We should be safe in there."

Lisa stared miserably at the figure lying outstretched in the centre of the bed. Pale, still and silent, Jack barely looked alive.

She could hear muffled voices from the next room. Amber and the mercenaries were in there, discussing how they were going to escape from the clock tower. This was punctuated with an occasional whimper as Renée tried to clean up her facial wounds with some First Aid spray.

Christina had made it quite plain to Lisa that she was not welcome at the meeting - she'd been told to "look after Jack", which Lisa had accurately translated to mean "We don't want you here asking stupid questions and generally getting in the way. Go and sit quietly with your unconscious friend in the next room and don't bother us."

Lisa hadn't really minded. She'd never been much good at strategising and wasn't sure how much use she would have been. Besides, she told herself, someone had to keep an eye on Jack.

_Jack__…_

She returned her attention to her friend. Jack hadn't stirred or moved a muscle since they'd brought him here. She wished he would wake up, or make some kind of movement, just so that she knew he was okay. She was starting to worry that he wasn't going to wake up at all.

He was her best friend - her only friend, in fact. Possibly the only person she had left in the whole world. If anything happened to him, and her parents were dead too, what would she do?

Die. Lisa suddenly remembered her agreement with Jack. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea; though she'd been afraid, she'd naively, _stupidly_ assumed that they'd be able to find her parents, and that nothing bad would happen to them. Now, though, there was a very real possibility that she'd be obliged to keep her end of the promise.

She wanted to cry. They'd been so close to their destination, and now here they were, trapped in this clock tower by birds - _birds,_ for God's sake - with Jack unconscious, sick, maybe even dying. And now that they'd taken so long to get even this far, she wondered if there was any point in carrying on.

Lisa didn't want to believe that her parents were dead, but she'd seen the kind of creatures that were roaming the city; if Amber was right, and Umbrella was responsible for the virus which turned living things into undead monsters, then surely Umbrella's headquarters would be teeming with zombies of every description. If that was the case, then her parents were almost certainly dead. Unarmed and unskilled in any form of self-defence, her mother and father wouldn't have stood a chance against the undead. They might even have joined them by now.

And what about Jack? What was wrong with him? Had that creature done something to him when it shot out that tentacle and cut open his arm? If so, then what?

She didn't know. And that scared her.

_What__'__s wrong with you, Jack? Why did you pass out? And why won__'__t you wake up?_

Lisa sat down on the bed beside Jack, and watched him closely. Once or twice she checked to make sure that he was still breathing.

"Jack," she said after a while, "Come on, Jack… wake up."

She moved his fringe out of his eyes, and laid a hand against his cheek, stroking it gently.

"Please wake up," she whispered. "Don't leave me…"

Jack was dimly aware of being unconscious when he heard the voice in the darkness.

"… _don__'__t leave me__…"_

The pressure and blackness around him lessened gradually, and bit by bit, sleep relinquished its hold on him. No longer did he feel like a disembodied mind floating in the dark. Arms, legs, hands, feet - they were all there, and back under his control. He could feel the curtain of sleep lifting…

With an immense effort, Jack opened his eyes. He was rewarded with a dim blur of colour and some indistinct shapes. A few panic-filled seconds later, everything swam back into focus, and he could see where he was.

To his bewilderment, he hadn't come round in the same room that he'd passed out in - this was a bedroom, and an expensive-looking one at that, with wooden panelling and antique furniture and oil paintings hanging on the walls. The light was dim and the air smelled stale, as if the room hadn't been used in years.

He looked around quickly, searching for Lisa, then relaxed as he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey," she said, and her pretty face broke into a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Lousy," said Jack, grimacing. He sat up slowly. "Where - ?"

"The clock tower bedroom," said Lisa instantly. She'd anticipated the question. "Amber and the others are next door," she added, as Jack opened his mouth. She'd guessed, correctly, that it would be Jack's next question.

"We still here?" said Jack, frowning. "Thought we woulda left by now."

"Unfortunately, no," said Lisa, with a sigh. "There's a big flock of zombie crows outside, and they almost tore us to pieces when we tried to leave. Christina and Amber and Renée are trying to work out an escape plan right now."

"Oh," said Jack. "Guess we ain't leavin' any time soon, huh."

Lisa shook her head.

"So now what?" said Jack.

"I don't know. We're stuck here. Nothing to do except wait for the others to come up with a plan, or for the crows to fly away."

"You think they will?"

"We should be so lucky," said Lisa. She sighed. "We're so close to Umbrella now, and we're stuck here. Nothing we can do to get out. God, I feel so _helpless_."

"Hey," said Jack, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It gonna be okay, Lise. You wait an' see. We gonna get rid of the crows, an' then we gonna get outta here. We find you parents an' escape from the city."

"But _how_?" said Lisa, burying her head in her hands. "Oh, Jack, it's hopeless. I don't think we're going to make it out of here alive. This was stupid. We should have just left as soon as we could. My parents are probably dead anyway."

"Lise - "

"Oh, come on. Look at the stuff that's out there. Zombies, crows, dogs, giant frogs, and those weird monsters with long tongues. Not to mention that _thing_ we saw earlier that nearly killed us both. How could anybody survive all those?"

"We did," said Jack. "An' if a couple of kids like us can get past 'em, I bet you smart scientist parents survive 'em all too, no problem."

"Really?" said Lisa, looking up. "You think so?"

"Sure I do," said Jack. "I bet they be just fine, waitin' for you to come an' find 'em, an' then we all get outta town an' we can be happy. Hey, maybe if I tell 'em that I save you life, maybe they like me better after that, huh?"

Lisa smiled slightly.

"Maybe. Thanks, Jack."

"You welcome. But dunt worry 'bout anythin' right now. Get some rest. You look like you need it."

"No. No, I can't sleep. Not now," insisted Lisa. "I'm not sleepy anyway."

It was a lie, and Jack knew it. The dark circles under Lisa's eyes betrayed her need for rest.

"Lise, just sleep," he told her. "You look beat. An' dunt argue. I be tired, so I _know_ you be tired too. Dunt bother tryin' to say you ain't, 'cause I know it ain't the truth."

Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but then closed it again. Jack was right; she was tired. The events of the day had taken their toll on her body, and she'd ignored it at first, but now the fatigue was starting to catch up with her.

She yawned. The warm, musty-smelling air in the room was starting to make her drowsy, and the bed looked comfortable. Sleep was starting to look more and more attractive by the second.

"See?" said Jack. "I tell you, you be tired. You need sleep."

Lisa gave in.

"Oh, all right," she said, swinging her legs onto the bed and lying down beside Jack. "But only five minutes," she added.

"Okay," said Jack.

"You'll wake me up, won't you?" Lisa asked him.

"Well, I dunt know," said Jack. "Sure I try, if I still be awake. Trouble is, I be tired too, an' I dunt care what anybody say, bein' unconscious ain't the same as sleepin'."

"That's all right. I'm sure they'll come and get us when they've thought of a plan," said Lisa, then stopped. "They _will _come and get us, won't they, Jack? I mean, they wouldn't just go off and leave us here, right?"

"Christina prob'ly would," said Jack. "Dunt know 'bout Renée."

"Amber wouldn't, though," said Lisa.

"Nah, she no would leave us," agreed Jack. "She be a real nice lady, for a cop."

Lisa was about to say that all cops were nice, before remembering what Amber had told them about the creepy Chief of Police, who took bribes, leered at policewomen, stuffed animals for a hobby and bought tasteless works of art. Perhaps they weren't all nice after all.

Lisa saw Jack yawn, and close his eyes. _At least I know he__'__s going to wake up again_, she thought. _He__'__ll be okay._

Her eyelids were getting heavy - it was a relief to be able to close them, and allow herself to relax. Just for a few minutes, she told herself. No longer than that.

With that thought, she drifted off to sleep.

Lisa woke up suddenly. At first, she didn't understand why she'd woken up, when she still felt so tired. But as she lay there on the bed, trying to make sense of things, she gradually became aware of a rumbling noise in the distance.

"Jack?" she said, prodding her companion until he stirred. "What's that noise?"

Jack yawned, and opened his eyes. He listened for a moment, then mumbled, "Trolley goin' past," and turned over so that he could go back to sleep.

Lisa nodded, and was about to do the same when a thought struck her.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?" said Jack, half-asleep.

"Didn't they shut down the trolley system when they declared martial law?"

"Yeah…"

Jack abruptly raised his head from the pillow, and opened his eyes. He looked startled.

"Yeah," he repeated, but this time the information seemed to have sunk in. "Yeah, they shut it down. So how come it be runnin' again? Who be drivin' it?"

The sound was getting closer and louder; they could hear the rush and rumble of the trolley cars and the metallic screech of brakes. The latter was a long, drawn-out sound which lasted much longer than it should have done.

They exchanged a look.

"That dint sound good," said Jack.

As the roar of the approaching trolley cars grew still louder, it dawned on them that the trolley wasn't going to stop…

"Run!" they both yelled, launching themselves off the bed and towards the bedroom door, just as the trolley exploded through the wall in a shower of burning debris.

"Look out!" yelled Lisa.

Jack reacted instantly, ducking as a piece of flaming wreckage sailed over his head. However, he wasn't prepared for the body that flew out of the twisted, mangled heap of the front trolley car and landed face-down at his feet. He screamed in a pitch that quite surprised Lisa, and promptly fainted with shock.

"Men," said Lisa, rolling her eyes, and went to examine the body.

It was a young woman with short light-brown hair; she was dressed in a black leather miniskirt, brown boots and an iridescent blue tube-top, which vaguely reminded Lisa of some of the women she'd seen in downtown after it started to get dark. However, a grenade launcher lying by the woman's side indicated that there was more to this woman than a sexy outfit.

Lisa noticed something shining near her, and bent to pick it up. It was an identity card marked with the RPD's STARS unit emblem; on it was a picture of the woman, who was quite pretty, and her name.

"Jill Valentine," Lisa read aloud. She wondered if this was the woman that Amber had been talking about.

Beside her, Jack blinked a few times and then sat up.

"Hey, Lise, we oughta get outta here," he said. "Case the fire make that trolley blow up or somethin'."

"You're right," said Lisa, pocketing the card. "Come on, she's not moving. Probably dead. Let's go before she turns into a zombie - "

They both froze as they heard the woman groan. She started to stir. At once, Jack and Lisa leapt back, and scrambled towards the door, fighting to open it.

"Quick, open it, open it!"

"I'm _trying_!"

The door opened suddenly, and they both fell through into the living room. They looked back and saw the woman getting up, swaying a little. Panicking, they slammed the door shut.

Renée and Christina stared. Amber, however, got up from the armchair she'd been sitting in and rushed over to help, bumping into a coffee table on her way. Oblivious to the chessboard she'd knocked askew and the chess pieces scattered all over the floor, she bent down and helped Jack and Lisa up.

"Are you two all right?" she asked.

Lisa and Jack both nodded, too shocked to speak.

"What the hell just happened in there?" said Renée. "It sounded like the world was ending!"

"We thought it was," said Lisa. "A trolley car crashed right through the wall! If we hadn't got out of the way in time, we would have been crushed…"

"You weren't, though, so get over it," said Christina.

Amber stood up. "Come on, then. If we're all here and upright and armed, then I think we can take on those crows without too much difficulty."

"Are you _crazy_?" said Renée incredulously. "They'll kill us as soon as we step out of the door!"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not staying here to get squashed by wayward bits of public transport," said Lisa, wiping dust and flakes of plaster from her jeans. "I'm getting out of here, crows or no crows."

"Yeah," said Jack loyally.

"Uh, we're going to die," said Renée. "You know that, don't you?"

"Better than being besieged in here," said Amber. "There's five of us now, we can pick them off. If we're careful, I'm sure we can do this without too much trouble."

"Hmm," said Christina, who'd been present the whole time and didn't share Amber's confidence.

"We're agreed, then?" said Amber. "Okay."

She set off towards the door. Lisa was the first to join her - and wherever Lisa went, Jack was sure to follow. Christina shrugged, and made her way out of the room too, leaving Renée standing open-mouthed in the middle of the living room carpet.

"You're all _mad!_" she yelled after them.

However, Renée didn't particularly want to stay on her own either. When she realised that they were going to leave her behind, she called "Wait for me!" and hurried after them.

To their surprise, the crows were nowhere to be seen. They listened carefully, but there was no distant cawing, and not even the faintest sound of flapping wings - just roars and crackles as flames licked at the wreckage of the trolley.

"Guess the crash must've scared them off," said Amber.

They trod cautiously across the courtyard, looking for a way out of the clock tower. Infuriatingly, the burning ruins of the trolley were wedged tightly in between the clock tower and a courtyard wall, leaving them trapped.

"Great," said Jack, disgusted. "Just great. Now what?"

Christina was already deep in thought.

"I bet Corporal Clever-Clogs here is going to suggest tunnelling underneath it or something," said Renée, rolling her eyes.

"No, that would take too long," said Christina absent-mindedly. "But you're onto something, Lavelle."

Renée was taken aback.

"I am?"

"Clearly we can't go around it," continued her superior. "However, it might be possible to climb over it."

"Oh, great idea," said Amber, with mock enthusiasm. "Never mind that it's made of red-hot metal and it's structurally unsound, and quite frankly dangerous… that's only a very minor setback. Why, ignore the third-degree burns and it could be quite an adventure!"

Christina glared at her. She certainly didn't appreciate sarcasm from underlings; Lisa had found that out the hard way.

"Since you're so full of enthusiasm, Officer Bernstein, you can set us a good example by going first," she said tartly.

Amber narrowed her eyes.

"All right then," she said, pulling her shirt-sleeves down over her hands and reached up towards the top of a trolley car. Holding onto the edge of the roof, she hauled herself up, using an open window as a foothold. Even through the material of her shirt, the heat of the metal was intense - like touching a car that had been left in full sunshine on a hot day - and it was with relief that she succeeded in clambering onto the roof.

"There," she said triumphantly, standing up. "I did it, even though my hands are probably horribly burned and scarred for life."

"And your hair's on fire," Renée pointed out.

"What?"

Amber's hands flew to her head. Sure enough, a couple of curls had started to smoulder, and faint wisps of smoke were starting to curl upwards.

"Eeek!"

She frantically patted them out, and glared down at Christina, who was clearly amused by the mishap.

"_Not_ funny," she snapped. "Now shut up before I arrest you."

"On what grounds?" said Christina, still smirking.

"Oh, I'll think of something," snarled Amber.

"Can she do that?" whispered Lisa to Jack.

"You'd be amazed," muttered Jack.

"Come on, come on, we haven't got all day," said Renée impatiently. "Quit bickering and get a move on. Lisa, you next. You want a boost?"

Lisa nodded. Renée knelt on the ground, and gestured for Lisa to stand on her back.

"Watch your hands, it's hot," warned Amber, as Lisa climbed onto the roof.

"Ow!" yelped Lisa, wincing as her bare hands touched red-hot metal. It was her only word of complaint, though; she joined Amber on the roof. Jack came after her, shuffling to one side to make room for Renée and Christina.

"Here goes," said Amber, pointing forwards, and the party moved off again.

It wasn't long before they reached the trolley's end. One by one, they jumped down from the roof of the trolley car and onto solid ground again. Now safely on the other side of the wall, with no creatures in sight and just two blocks away from Umbrella HQ, things were starting to look up again.

The mercenaries were on reconnaissance, further down the street; Amber, Lisa and Jack followed behind at a more sedate pace, though they were no less alert than the two soldiers, whisking round with guns at the ready every time they heard anything.

Despite the unrelenting tension, Lisa felt happy, for the first time since she and Jack first began their quest. Finally, the end was in sight - she could already see the top of the Umbrella building from here.

_Almost there__…__ just a few streets,_ Lisa thought, hardly daring to believe it. They'd been set back so many times, and she'd started thinking that they would never make it here alive. Yet here they were, walking down Warren Street, tantalisingly close to their destination.

"Second street on the left," said Amber.

"I know," said Lisa. "I've been here before."

First left. Then second.

And there it was, occupying an entire city block; a vast office block in chrome and glass and steel, dark and silent, towering far above the neighbouring buildings. The familiar red-and-white umbrella logo was displayed above the main doors, and below it were the letters:

UMBRELLA PHARMACEUTICALS, INC.

"This is it," breathed Lisa. "Umbrella headquarters… we made it! We finally made it!"

Jack looked round. In between here and announcing that they were going to check out the area, Christina and Renée had disappeared.

"Hey, where the mercs go?" he said, bewildered.

"Who cares?" said Lisa. "We're here! I'm going to find my parents! Come on!"

Without a backwards glance, she raced up the steps, her heart filled with joy.


	30. The Heart Of Darkness

****

30: The Heart Of Darkness

Lisa bit her lip nervously. There was nobody here. Just her, all alone in the dark, with only the flickering blue light of a distant computer screen to see by.

She'd half-expected her parents to be standing here, safe and well, and overjoyed that she'd come to their rescue. Stupid, now that she thought about it. Stupid and naïve. As if life was really that simple.

There were sounds of movement behind her. Shuffling feet. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Every muscle tensed…

She nearly screamed when she felt the hand on her shoulder.

"Lise?" said whoever was behind her.

Lisa breathed out again slowly.

"Oh, it's you," she said, and turned round. Jack's face was pale and ghostly in the dim blue light.

"Hey, we made it," he said, grinning. "We gonna find you parents now."

Lisa smiled weakly, but even in the dark Jack could see the doubt in her eyes.

"What?" he said. "You dunt think we gonna find 'em?"

"I… I don't know, Jack," said Lisa, shaking her head. "It's just… this place is so big, and it's dark… and it's taken us so long to get here. Are they even still here? What if they left and went back home looking for me?"

"Lise, if they go home to look for you, we woulda seen 'em on the way here," said Jack firmly. "If they be here in the first place, then they dint leave. There be nowhere for 'em to go. They gotta still be here. Now where could they be, Lise?"

Lisa thought hard.

Now, if I was a pair of unarmed, probably terrified Umbrella scientist/researchers sheltering in my workplace from the undead, where would I be?

Somehow she doubted that her parents were cowering under a table in the staff canteen. She tried to put herself in her parents' shoes, but then realised she couldn't - she had no idea how her parents' minds worked.

_I barely know my own parents…_

"I don't know," she said helplessly. "Maybe in their lab?"

"Where they lab be?" said Jack.

"The thirteenth floor," said Lisa.

"Got it," said Jack. "Amber?"

"What - ow!"

It sounded like Amber had just walked straight into a pillar, somewhere in the gloom. After a moment's angry silence, they heard her say:

"Well here we arb. Da hard ob darkness. Ubrella… ow, by dose… I tink I broke by dose… damn billars…"

Jack and Lisa looked at each other, then they both tried to focus on Amber's shadowy outline.

"We really need some lights in here," said Lisa.

Jack looked at her expectantly.

"Well don't everyone look for the light switches at once," she sighed, and went over to the reception desk. She'd been to Umbrella HQ before - her parents had brought her here once on a "Bring Your Daughter To Work" day - and she vaguely remembered seeing light switches on the wall behind the desk.

Memory hadn't failed her - there was a row of switches on the wall, next to the photograph of an earnest-looking blonde woman, this month's "Employee of the Month". She couldn't quite make out the handwritten labels below each switch, even with the blue glare of the receptionist's computer screen to illuminate the patch of wall.

She flipped a switch at random, and was gratified to see the lobby suddenly flooded with light.

"Dow by eyes hurt too," complained Amber, whose nose was bleeding profusely.

Lisa blinked a few times, and looked around, able to see her surroundings for the first time. They were standing in the lobby, a plain white room with two pillars on either side of the plate glass entrance doors, and a black marble floor, the centre of which was embossed with Umbrella's distinctive red-and-white umbrella logo. On the left-hand side of the room - her right - was an elevator; on the right, a flight of stairs leading up to the next floor.

Amber looked down. Her lip curled in disgust as she saw the Umbrella logo beneath her feet; very deliberately, she spat on the floor. Jack noted with interest that she managed to hit the exact centre of the umbrella, seemingly without any effort.

"Good aim," he said, impressed.

"Dank you," said Amber proudly, wiping her bloodied nose with the back of her hand. "Cabe runner-ub in da Barksbanshib Contest dis year, you dow. In fact - "

"Which way up?" interrupted Lisa. "Stairs or elevator?"

As if by magic, their gazes were drawn to the elevator. Though apparently mundane, the elevator's plain metal doors had an oddly sinister look about them, and a general aura of menace hinted at all kinds of horrors concealed within.

"I dink I'll dake da stairs, if id's all da sabe do you," said Amber quickly.

Jack was swift to agree.

"Yeah. Stairs. Definitely."

"Fine with me," said Lisa, trying not to look too relieved. "The stairs it is."

----------

They were only on the fifth floor, and already they were thoroughly sick of climbing stairs.

"My legs ache," complained Lisa.

So did Jack's arm. It throbbed like an aching tooth, and the wound burned as though he'd doused it in napalm. Every movement was agony. He'd never been in so much pain in his life.

Yet that wasn't what bothered him.

For a time, the itching had subsided. Treatment with the First Aid spray had helped, even though the stuff stang. Now it was returning - an infuriating itching, coupled with a desire to scratch that was becoming increasingly difficult to fight.

He didn't dare scratch. He was too afraid; afraid of what would happen to him if he did. Afraid that scratching might mark the beginning of his end…

"Sixth floor," said Amber. "These stairs just go on and on, don't they?"

"Tellin' me," said Jack, grateful for the distraction. "That elevator be startin' to look like a good idea now."

"Surely you're joking," said Lisa in disbelief. "The elevator of doom? Absolutely not! Ten to one, there was a zombie in there."

"Or something even worse," said Amber darkly. "Nothing would surprise me in this place. Heart of darkness, just like I said."

"Well, we haven't actually _found_ anything nasty yet," said Lisa, as they reached the seventh floor landing.

"That's what worries me," said Amber. "This place is far too quiet. Don't you think that's a little suspicious, when everywhere else in town is crawling with monsters? No, I'm telling you, there's something strange about this place. And that's saying something, in a town full of zombies."

"I wish you no would say stuff you gonna regret later," said Jack. "I mean, now you just say it be too quiet, somethin' scary prob'ly gonna jump outta nowhere an' try an' eat us."

"What, every time?" said Amber sceptically. "You mean if I said right now that we hadn't seen anything creepy for ages, then suddenly a bunch of mutant three-headed zombies with laser-beam eyes would burst in through the ceiling and - "

"Shut up. _Now."_

Amber was about to protest, then thought better of it, and closed her mouth again. Not another word was said until they finished climbing the stairs, and found themselves on the thirteenth floor.

They carefully studied the map on the wall of the stairwell, and found the "You Are Here" arrow. It was about the only thing they could locate on a map of astounding complexity.

"Which department did you say your parents worked in again?" said Amber, after a few moments of bewildered silence.

"Research," said Lisa.

"Well, this floor appears to be home to… yes, the Market Research department, the Pharmaceutical Research department, the Software Research department, the Bacteriological Research department, and Forward Planning - whatever the hell that is," said Amber. "So which one?"

"Bacteriological Research," said Lisa. "I'm certain. My dad's speciality was in bacteria and viruses when he worked at the hospital. And my mom's always complaining about the people in Pharmaceutical Research taking more than their fair share of the budget."

The Bacteriological Research department, as it transpired, was on the other side of the building.

"But of _course_," said Amber, rolling her eyes. "It couldn't just be down the corridor, could it? No, that would be too easy, wouldn't it…"

Amber left the stairwell, still grumbling and expressing her grievances aloud, usually in words of four letters. The two teenagers merely sighed, and went after her.

----------

The corridor outside the stairwell seemed to stretch on forever, with dozens of other, smaller corridors branching off in all directions. To employees, it was familiar ground; to Jack, Lisa and Amber, a bizarre labyrinth designed by a sadist.

Their footsteps echoed strangely in the empty corridor as they walked on, their shadows dancing behind them in the flickering light.

"Have we gone past it? I think we've gone past it."

"Dunt think so. Lise?"

"No, we haven't, I'm sure of it."

"I wish we had a decent map."

"Same here."

Lisa wondered again where Christina and Renée had gone. Perhaps they were in another part of the building, trying to find their comrades from the UBCS.

It was very calm here. No sound, no movement, no hint that anything was amiss. Almost as if everything that had happened outside this building was a dream; a nightmare quickly fading from memory.

A sudden, piercing scream cut through the peace like a knife. They jumped, shocked out of their serenity.

"S-should we check it out?" stammered Jack.

"Probably dead already," said Amber hurriedly. "Don't bother. We'll just get out of here quickly before it gets us too."

Despite her natural compassion, Lisa was inclined to agree. The last time they'd investigated a scream, it had been too late to do anything to help, and she wasn't thrilled by the prospect of being sidetracked yet again. Yet…

_What if they're still alive and need help? We can't just leave them to die…_

There was another scream, even more shrill than the first, and a couple of gunshots. As the screams continued, each sounding more desperate than the last, Lisa made a decision.

"I'm going," she said, and darted off down the corridor in the direction of the screaming.

"Lisa, no! Get back here!" shouted Amber, but Lisa ignored her and kept running.

The sound was getting nearer. Lisa was just starting to wonder if perhaps this was such a good idea when she rounded a corner and collided with the source of the screaming.

"Don't kill me!"

"Who are you? What's going on?" said Lisa, too stunned to take in any details of the person she'd just run into.

"No time! Just run! Get out of here!"

The speaker pushed past her and disappeared into one of the side corridors. She just had time to glimpse blonde hair and a flash of white lab coat.

"Why?" yelled Lisa.

She heard slow, plodding footsteps coming up behind her. Each one was accompanied with a squelch, as if the walker had just climbed out of a swamp.

Very slowly, she turned round…

----------

They heard the sound they'd both been dreading - Lisa's scream.

Jack swallowed hard.

"Lise?" he called, then, "Lise!"

There was no reply.

"Oh no…" said Amber.

Panicking, they both broke into a run.

"Lise, hang on!"

"We're coming!"

----------

Lisa backed away. In front of her, lurching slowly but steadily towards her, was a zombie. At least, it looked vaguely humanoid; she'd never seen a zombie like this one before. It had a strange greenish pallor, and didn't appear to be rotting. Instead its skin and clothes were covered in a thick layer of slime.

"W- what is that thing?" she gasped.

Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't forthcoming with information. It squelched its way forward, leaving slimy footprints on the floor tiles.

Lisa's finger squeezed the trigger of her gun three times. The zombie's body absorbed the shots with barely a tremor; that wasn't particularly unusual. What was strange were the small, slimy objects that spewed out from the bullet holes and squirmed across the floor.

"Leeches? What the hell…?" she said to herself.

The creature stopped without warning, and with a shudder it… _changed_. The body became a mass of brownish sinew, and the arms stretched out into flailing tentacles. As Lisa watched in horror, the head exploded into a mass of slime and leeches.

It stumbled blindly towards her, the two whip-like tentacles lashing out in all directions. Lisa dodged one just in time - it scraped across the wall behind her, gouging out huge hunks of plaster.

She had no choice but to run, which was exactly what she did - but then something shot out and wrapped itself round her ankles.

Lisa toppled forwards with a scream. She felt herself being dragged backwards, and realised that the creature had got her.

_I'm not going to survive this,_ she thought. _This time I really am going to die…_

Lisa's fingernails scrabbled on the floor tiles as she tried to stop herself from being dragged to her doom, but there was no way of hanging on.

"Help, help! Somebody help! Help me!" she screamed, hoping that someone would hear her. "Jack! Jack, where are you? Help me, please!"

----------

Amber Bernstein to the rescue…

Amber's mind raced through every possible outcome. Amber Bernstein saves the day with moments to spare; Amber Bernstein's heroic sacrifice to save a girl in need; Amber Bernstein vs. the Three-Headed Mutant Zombies With Laser-Beam Eyes; Amber Bernstein runs away, screaming hysterically like the pathetic wuss she really is…

Aside from the first one, none of these were terribly appealing. Not for the first time that day, she wondered why on earth she'd chosen law enforcement as a career.

_Why didn't I just become an orthodontist like my cousin Nathan?_ _He's earning twice my salary, and he doesn't have to deal with zombies…_

Jack, however, was not regretting a choice in career; he was too busy fearing for the life of the girl he loved.

_Please, God, dunt let nothin' happen to my Lise! Please let her be okay, dunt let her be hurt or dead… I be a good person for the rest of my life, I ain't never gonna get drunk or swear or listen to Marilyn Manson ever 'gain… please, I do anythin', just let her be okay…_

He turned the corner and stopped dead, so suddenly that Amber ran into his back. As Jack stumbled forward, Amber saw what had made him stop - a headless man-shaped creature with long tentacles, dragging a petrified Lisa along the floor.

"Lisa!" she screamed.

Jack regained his balance, and pointed his gun at one of the tentacles wrapped around Lisa's ankles.

"Let her _go_!_"_ he yelled.

The force of the shot took the tentacle right off the creature's body. Leeches gushed everywhere, spilling onto the floor in a horrible slimy mass. More leeches and slime poured onto the floor as Jack blew off the other tentacle; Lisa's legs, free of their restraints, dropped to the floor.

Lisa pushed herself up off the slime-covered tiles and crawled away from the creature as fast as she could. The monster tottered after her on stump-like legs.

_BLAM_! Amber's shotgun took out the creature's legs from underneath it, and it collapsed.

Lisa breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the creature fall backwards and hit the floor, and she stood up. Thinking it was finally over, both Jack and Amber lowered their weapons.

None of them were quite prepared for what happened next.

Slowly, imperceptibly, the creature's body began to swell, inflating like a monstrous balloon. Bulging and glistening with slime, the thing grew rapidly into an enormous, bloated carcass.

Jack, Lisa and Amber watched in horrified fascination as skin stretched like fabric, and what might once have been muscles bulged obscenely. Just as the thought that it might be a good idea to run finally seeped into their brains, the creature's distended form gave one last heave, and burst.

Amber and Jack ducked just in time as slime spattered the wall behind them, but Lisa wasn't so fortunate. She caught a spray of leeches right in the chest, and the force of it knocked her backwards.

As Jack wiped a small blob of slime from his cheek, he saw Lisa lying flat on her back, covered in slime, with leeches wriggling up her legs and torso with alarming speed. She wriggled, tried to shake them off and wipe them from her clothing, but the seething mass of bloodsucking parasites advanced faster and faster.

"No, no!" she screamed. "Get them off me!"

"Lise!" yelled Jack.

"Oh my God!" said Amber, throwing herself onto her hands and knees beside the younger girl. She started pulling the leeches off her in handfuls and hurling them across the corridor, grimacing a little at the feel of the slime between her fingers.

"Help me!" ordered Amber. "We have to get these leeches off her, fast! Don't let them stick to her!"

Jack didn't waste any time hesitating. He started grabbing leeches and pulling them off Lisa's arms and chest.

"I saw one of these things in the police station," said Amber as she worked frantically to remove the leeches. "I was hoping I wouldn't see any more. I saw one kill a man in seconds… "

Lisa's cries were abruptly muffled; the leeches were crawling over her face, covering her nose and mouth completely. Her eyes were wide and terrified, her cheeks and forehead awash with slime, and beneath the leeches she was still screaming.

Resisting the urge to throw up, Jack wrenched the leeches from Lisa's face - they came off with little _pop_s, like suction cups - and threw them at the wall. His hands were so covered in slime that he could barely get a grip on the things, but he remembered what Amber had told him and didn't pause even for a second.

Lisa looked like she was drowning in leeches. She was almost completely covered in them; there were even some in her hair.

"This ain't workin', Amber," Jack said through gritted teeth.

"I don't care! I'm going to _make_ it work!" snarled Amber. "I've let you kids down too many times already! I may be a good cop but I'm a useless bodyguard! You could have died after I left you in the sewers! I'm not going to let you come to any harm this time!"

She pulled about a dozen leeches off Lisa's arm, and glared at the palmful of glistening black parasites.

"I am going to get you _both _out of here - "

A pause as she threw away the leeches.

" - alive - "

Another pause as she discarded another huge handful of leeches.

" - and _well_!"

More of the slimy horrors hit the wall with a sickening splat.

Jack pulled off the leeches still covering Lisa's nose and mouth. Finally free of them, Lisa sat up with a gasp. With trembling hands, she pulled a stray leech out of her hair and tossed it aside.

"You all right?" said Jack, helping Lisa to her feet.

"Y-yes," said Lisa shakily. "Yes, I'm okay. Thank you."

She wiped some slime from her arms, flicking it away and then wiping her hands on her jeans.

"Ugh, gross," she muttered. "Even worse than sewer water…" 

"Did you find whoever was screaming back there?" Amber asked her.

"Some scientist," said Lisa, straightening up. "Told me to run and darted off before I could figure out what was going on. Next thing I know, that leech zombie thing turns up."

"Which way?" said Amber.

Lisa pointed unsteadily to the corridor into which the mysterious scientist had disappeared.

"Come on then, let's go," said Amber. "Maybe he or she will know where your parents are - or where the damn Bacteriological Research department is."

She set off towards the corridor. Jack started to follow her, but stopped when he realised that Lisa wasn't following him.

"Lise…?" he said, and went back to investigate.

Lisa was standing exactly where he'd left her, in the middle of the corridor. She wasn't crying - her cheeks shone with slime, not tears - but she was still shaking from her ordeal.

He wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how welcome a hug would be under the circumstances. Jack settled for putting a hand on her shoulder instead.

"I'm all right, Jack," Lisa told him. "I just wish I could stop shaking…"

She breathed in deeply, and out again, to steady her nerves. She felt Jack's other hand come to rest on her other shoulder.

They stared into each other's eyes.

"Thank you," said Lisa softly. "You saved my life again."

"Ain't just me who save you," said Jack, suddenly feeling very awkward as he started to blush. "Amber help you too."

Lisa didn't seem to hear him.

"That's the third time you've saved my life now," she said.

"Yeah," said Jack, who didn't really know what else to say. "Yeah, I guess so."

Lisa smiled suddenly.

"I think I owe you a hug, then," she said, and threw her arms around Jack, hugging him tightly. Jack stood stock still, startled by the unexpected outburst of affection, but then he started to smile. He put his arms around Lisa and hugged her back, as hard as he could.

Neither of them said what they were thinking.

_I hope this hug never ends… _

----------

Amber hadn't yet noticed the absence of her young friends. She continued through the rabbit-warren of dim corridors, wondering where the elusive scientist could have gone.

These corridors all looked the same; white walls, white ceiling, white floor tiles, the occasional door, and flickering neon tube lighting. Someone had tried to make the place more interesting by adding a few pot-plants and hanging art prints on the walls, but it hadn't really worked. The corridor was indistinguishable from any other - she could have been absolutely anywhere in the building.

"Damn it, where did you go?" she muttered.

She stopped, and looked around.

"Where the hell did _we_ go? Lisa, do you know where we - ?"

Amber's question trailed off into silence. It struck her just how quiet it was in the corridor, and how alone she felt.

"Lisa?" said Amber hesitantly.

She turned around, but there was nobody there behind her; only air and empty space where Lisa and Jack should have been standing.

"Lisa? Jack? Where are you?" she called out.

Her voice sounded thin and empty in the corridor. Amber listened hard, hoping desperately for a response. There was none.

Amber's consternation became alarm. Where the hell were they? Didn't they know it wasn't safe to be alone in this place, when there were probably more of those leech zombies around?

_Leech zombies…_

The thought sank in slowly. There'd been one leech zombie. There were probably more around. And she was alone. Very, very alone. She had a shotgun, true, but she didn't have any spare ammunition for it, and she had a nasty feeling that it was almost empty.

"I'm screwed…" she said in a small, miserable voice.

And suddenly she was angry about it. After all that she'd been through - Joseph's death, those futile months of trying to persuade the town that Umbrella was up to no good, the police station siege, getting lost in the sewers, battling monsters and arguing with mercenaries, she was alone here, running low on ammunition and facing the possibility of more leech zombies and a messy death.

She was sick of fighting. Sick of always being afraid, sick of running for her life. Sick of the universe tormenting her like this.

Time to let it all out. Amber took a deep breath.

_"Goddamn it!"_ she screamed, and kicked a rubber plant as hard as she could.

Earth sprayed everywhere as the flowerpot bounced and rolled away down the corridor. She watched with savage pleasure as it hit a wall and smashed into pieces.

As the red mist started to clear, Amber saw something glinting on the floor amid the debris of the broken flowerpot. Curious, she stepped forward and began to pick through the pieces of china.

"Amber?" she heard somebody call. "Hey, Amber, where you go?"

Amber breathed out. There they were…

"Lisa! Jack! I'm over here!" she called.

"Where?"

"Here!"

"Here?"

"No, not there! Here!"

The exchanged continued for some minutes, until finally Jack and Lisa came round the corner and found Amber.

"_There_ you are," said Lisa, looking relieved. "We thought we'd lost you."

"I was thinking the same thing," said Amber. "What happened to you guys?"

"Oh, nothing," said Lisa, but she started to blush.

Amber knew that this wasn't the truth, the whole truth - in fact, anything but the truth - but she sensibly decided to let it lie.

"Hey, what you got there?" said Jack, peering at the thing in the palm of her hand.

"Oh, this?" said Amber. "Here, take a look for yourselves."

Lisa held out her hand, and Amber dropped her find into her palm.

It was a necklace - a heart-shaped pendant, made from some kind of smoky-coloured crystal or glass, strung on a plain silver chain. Despite its simple design, there was something strangely compelling about it.

The pendant spun gently as Lisa held the necklace up to the light.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. "Amber, where did you get this?"

Amber pointed towards the sorry-looking remnants of the flowerpot.

"Kicked that, and I found this when it broke. Guess somebody lost it and it fell in the plant."

"Maybe somebody put it there, for safe-keeping," suggested Lisa.

"Why would they do that?" said Jack blankly.

"No idea. It doesn't look valuable. It probably just got lost," said Amber. "Can I have it back now, please?"

A little reluctantly, Lisa handed the necklace back. Amber carefully undid the clasp, and put the necklace around her neck. For the briefest of moments, Lisa felt an inexplicable urge to snatch it back and keep it for herself.

"What now? Do we find that scientist or keep looking for the blasted Bacteriological Research department?" said Amber.

Lisa hesitated.

"Well, we don't know where the scientist is now," she began. "But we don't know where the department is either. I don't know what to do. I mean, I don't want to leave that scientist all alone in this place, but I want to find my parents before -" she swallowed, " - before it's too late. Do you think maybe the scientist knows where the Bacteriological Research department is?"

"I expect so," said Amber.

"Maybe we oughta just keep goin'," suggested Jack. "See which one we find first, the scientist or the department."

"Yeah," said Amber. "That's probably the best solution. Lisa? What do you think?"

Lisa couldn't help thinking of the scientist, alone, helpless and scared, running from monsters. She felt guilty until she remembered that the monsters were products of the T-Virus; in that case, she told herself, it probably served Dr Frankenstein right if he was killed by his own creation.

She didn't feel any better about it, though.

"Jack's right," she said, letting out a sigh. "We'll carry on, see what happens and then decide."

----------

"Hey! Over here!"

Jack was standing proudly in front of a frosted glass door with the words "Bacteriological Research Department" emblazoned across it. Lisa's heart rose, only to sink again when she saw the numerical keypad next to the door and the message it was displaying:

_Please input your 7-digit entry code. _

"What's wrong?" said Amber, seeing Lisa's dismayed expression.

"We need an entry code for this door," said Lisa. "I don't know what it is."

Amber sighed. "Great. An electronic lock. Just what we need."

"Guess the code," said Jack.

"Okay," said Lisa uncertainly, and punched in some numbers at random.

_5684732  
__Incorrect entry code. Access denied._

_2051986  
Incorrect entry code. Access denied. _

_1928375  
Incorrect entry code. Access denied._

Lisa kicked the bottom of the door in sheer frustration. She half-hoped that the glass would smash into a million pieces, but it didn't even crack.

"Must be reinforced or something, for security," said Amber. "But I think you're onto something, Lisa. Here, hold this and stand back a minute."

Lisa took the shotgun from Amber's hands and stepped aside obligingly. Amber drew her handgun. She pointed it squarely at the centre of the glass door, and pulled the trigger.

They all ducked, but it was a dull thud that followed the shots, not the explosion of shards they'd been expecting. When they opened their eyes again, the glass pane was still intact, but it now looked more like a sheet of frost than glass.

"That should weaken the glass. Okay, Lisa, try it again," she said, and stepped backwards.

Lisa kicked out at the door again; this time the glass dissolved and dropped out of the doorframe like snow.

"Nice," said Jack, impressed.

Lisa blinked once or twice, then cautiously waved one hand through the gap where the glass used to be.

"Wow," she said.

"That solves that problem," said Amber briskly, replacing her handgun in its holster as Lisa handed the shotgun back. "Thanks. Okay, Lisa, you first."

Lisa nodded. She stepped carefully through the empty doorframe, and beckoned for her companions to follow.

Sirens blared.

"_Intruder alert. Intruder alert_," announced a robotic voice. "_All security personnel report to Floor 13, Corridor 9, Section 5. Intruder alert._"

Lisa froze in her tracks.

"Oh, no... what do I do, what do I do?" she hissed.

"Nothing," said Amber. "Those security personnel are probably all dead. Come on, let's keep going."

"Are you sure about this?" said Lisa.

"No," replied Amber. "But it's that or leave town right now, without your parents. You want to find them?"

"Yes."

"Then keep going. Jack and I are right behind you."

Lisa couldn't help thinking how weird it was, as they walked through the hallway with the sirens' nerve-shattering shrieks in their ears and warning lights bathing the corridor in a crimson glow. She'd expected hordes of security guards to appear from nowhere and apprehend them, in accordance with dramatic convention.

Jack also looked ill at ease. He kept looking around, as if he too was expecting to be arrested by Umbrella's security guards and was wondering where they were.

_Probably all dead…_

Lisa shook the thought out of her head. No time to worry about that now. They had a job to do.

Lining this stretch of the corridor were doors, similar to the one they'd just smashed their way through. Each one was an office/laboratory, with the name of the occupant engraved on a neat little plaque beside the door. On one of those plaques, she knew, would be her parents' names.

"So we need to find the door with Hartley on it?" said Amber.

"Uh-huh," said Lisa, not really listening. She was already crossing the hallway to peer at the names by the doors.

"Dr W.H. Arden… Dr Thomas J. White… Dr N. James and Dr R. Emerson… Dr A. Keller… Dr Sarah Zimmerman… Dr I. Fernley-Goodman… Dr L. Ylönen…" she read, as she passed from door to door.

Jack, meanwhile, was checking the doors on the other side of the hallway:

"Dr Martha Pellini… Dr B. Chapel… Dr T. Simmons… Dr W. K. Andrews… Dr Harvey Tullis… Dr F. Portokalos… hey, found it."

Lisa rushed over to Jack's side of the hall, her heart beating so hard she thought it might explode. She nearly squealed out loud with delight when she read the words:

DR J. R. HARTLEY & DR E. D. HARTLEY

"This is it!" she said happily, pressing the button marked "OPEN" on the control panel beside the door.

The door moved noiselessly aside, and Lisa entered the darkened room. Three steps in, the lights unexpectedly flickered into life, illuminating the space she was in.

This was what Lisa saw:

On her left, a filing cabinet, and two desks placed against the wall; these were bare save for two lifeless computers. On her right, taking up the rest of the room, was an abundance of complex and expensive-looking scientific equipment, multiple work surfaces, a sink, a storage cupboard, and shelves stacked with reference books, glassware and all the usual laboratory paraphernalia.

The room was perfectly organised and tidy… and tinted with grey. Lisa ran her finger along the desk, and discovered why: the entire place was coated in a thick layer of dust.

"Look at that dust. It look like nobody use this place in months," remarked Jack, from the doorway.

"But that's impossible," said Lisa, turning to look at him. "My parents spend practically their whole lives at work! They're both neat freaks, too, there's no way they'd let their lab get into this state! The only way it could get so dusty on its own is if…"

She trailed off. It suddenly struck her how empty and unused the place looked. The last time she'd seen this room, there had been papers on the desk, and a desk tidy full of stationery. There'd been a few family photos placed in between the humming computers, and glassware, Bunsen burners and microscopes out on the work surfaces, plainly in use. There'd even been a spider plant flourishing on the windowsill.

Now there was no spider plant, no family photos, no papers or desk tidy, and all the equipment was tidied away on the shelves, gathering dust.

One thing was plain. Their names might have been on the door, but the Hartleys hadn't used this room for some time.

"I don't understand," said Lisa, bewildered and faintly alarmed. "Why is this room empty? What happened to my parents? Why don't they work here any more?"

"This is why," said Amber, who after seeing the state of the room, had been opening and shutting the drawers of the filing cabinet, in search of an explanation. She took out a single sheet of paper - the only thing in the entire filing cabinet - and handed it to Lisa.

It was a printed copy of an e-mail, sent to her father's work address. Lisa read it carefully.

_Sender: "Dr Wilfred Hazlitt" (wilfhazlitt(a)umbrellamail. com)  
__Recipient: "Dr Jonathan Hartley" (flyfisher(a)umbrellamail. com)_

_Re: Transfer to Virology _

It is with great pleasure that we inform you of your successful application for transfer to the Viral Research Department. Your work in the Bacteriological Research Department has been of an exceptionally high standard - particularly impressive was your involvement in the research and development of the First Aid spray - and we are confident that you will go on to accomplish even greater things in your new position.

_Your new laboratory is located at the centre of the Viral Research department on the seventh floor, and is to be shared with another researcher, Dr Alistair Morton, due to a temporary shortage of office space._

_As a Viral Researcher, your salary will be increased by a further $200 per week, excluding expenses, as will that of your colleague Dr E. Hartley, who will be working as your assistant._

_We wish you every success in your new position, and look forward to seeing the results of your new line of research._

_Sincerely,_

_Dr Wilfred Hazlitt,  
Director of Raccoon City Branch Headquarters _

It was dated July 12th, 1997. Lisa stared at the paper, unable to believe her eyes.

"Viral Research?" she said at last. "But they never told me they were being transferred…"

"Do they often discuss their work with you?" asked Amber.

"They used to tell me all about the assignments they'd been working on," said Lisa. "And whenever they got promoted or given a raise, we'd always go out for dinner at Grill 13 to celebrate. But they started working on a new project in February, and now they don't tell me anything any more."

Amber's eyebrows raised.

"A new project?" she said warily. "Did they mention anything about it?"

"No," said Lisa, shaking her head. "All I know is that it's called the L-Project, and I only found that out by accident."

"Hmm," said Amber, the look on her face perfectly matching the suspicion in her voice. "I hate to say it, but it doesn't sound like your folks are working on First Aid sprays this time, Lisa. Rumours about a new Umbrella bioweapons project, a transfer to Viral Research… this whole thing smells bad."

Lisa said nothing. She felt sick at the thought of her mother and father, working diligently in a laboratory to create a new virus - the same kind of virus which spawned the very freaks of nature that she and Jack had been fighting all night.

_No_, she told herself. _Mom and Dad wouldn't_ _do something like that. They'd never do anything like that… would they?_

She didn't know any more. She hardly spent any time with her busy scientist parents - and after trying and failing to imagine herself in their shoes an hour ago, Lisa was beginning to wonder just how well she knew her mother and father, or even if she knew them at all.

"Well," said Amber, slamming the open drawer back into the filing cabinet, and heading towards the door, "Come on. We'd better go back downstairs and look for your parents."

Lisa nodded glumly, and made her way towards the door. She was almost there when she heard a loud creak behind her.

She whipped round, eyes quickly scanning every corner of the room for danger, trying to work out where the sound came from.

There it was again - fainter this time, but still clearly audible. It was coming from inside the storage cupboard.

Gripping her handgun tightly in her right hand, Lisa trod softly across the room, trying to make as little noise as possible. Jack and Amber watched uneasily from the doorway.

"Maybe you oughta just leave it," said Jack, looking nervous. "You prob'ly dunt wanna find out what they keep in there…"

His warning went unheeded. Lisa was already standing in front of the cupboard, and eyeing it with grave suspicion. Very cautiously, she reached for the door handle -

- and yanked it sharply. There was a muffled shriek from inside, and a blonde woman in a lab coat tumbled out onto the floor, landing in a dishevelled heap at Lisa's feet.

"All right, who are you?" Lisa demanded to know, pointing her gun at the scientist. "What were you doing in there? Were you spying on us?"

The woman looked up, and Lisa recognised her instantly - she was the one who'd been running from the leech zombie, and now that she got a closer look at the woman's face, she realised that her photograph was hanging in the lobby downstairs.

"Employee of the Month, right?" said Lisa.

The young woman nodded silently.

"Well, congratulations, Dr…"

"Harlech," said the scientist, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. "Clarissa Harlech."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr Harlech," said Lisa. "Now what are you doing in my parents' lab?"

"Hiding," came the hoarse reply. "It's after me."

"What's after you?" said Lisa.

There was a thud somewhere outside in the corridor, and the ground shook for a moment.

"That!" cried the scientist, and scrambled back into the cupboard again, pulling the door shut behind her.

"What's going on?" said Lisa, puzzled. "Why - ?"

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the looks of terror on Jack and Amber's faces.

"What is it?" she asked them.

"Kill…" rumbled a deep voice from outside the lab. Lisa's heart almost stopped beating from fright.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Not again…"


	31. Something Wicked This Way Comes

****

31: Something Wicked This Way Comes

They could see its outline through the frosted glass of the door - huge, hulking, striding purposefully towards the lab.

"But we _killed_ it!" said Lisa, almost hysterical. "We blew it up - it _died_! We _saw _it! How the hell can it still be alive?"

Jack just shook his head.

"I dunt know," he said in a whisper.

Lisa looked round frantically for a place to hide. There was nowhere, unless they climbed out of the window and hung by their fingertips from the window ledge outside. The only place they could have hidden was the cupboard, but that was occupied - she could just about hear the scientist gibbering quietly inside it.

The monster's silhouette was looming large against the glass. Jack and Amber shrank away in terror, then scrambled to get away from the door.

_Oh, please, God, _prayed Lisa, _please don't let it figure out how to open the door…_

As it turned out, the creature had no idea how to get the door open. They could hear it pounding the control panel, bellowing with rage, to no avail.

_Thank you…_

A fist smashed through the door, showering broken glass across the room. Lisa and Jack both screamed as the monster stepped through the remains of the door and into the laboratory.

With trembling hands, Amber raised the shotgun and fired straight at the creature's chest. It looked down at the small mark that the shot had left on its body, roared, and lunged at Amber. With one swipe it took the shotgun right out of her hands, sending the weapon flying across the room and through a window.

The glass smashed on impact, and Amber watched in horror as her only source of comfort was sent tumbling to the street far below.

"No!" she whimpered. "No, no, no!"

A low growl reminded her that she had more pressing concerns. Slowly, inexorably, Amber's gaze was drawn back to what was in front of her. It occurred to her for the first time that she was standing face to face with a ten-foot tall zombie with a nightmarish face - blank eyes, rotting skin and a mouth twisted into a permanent sneer - and, she noticed with growing alarm, a purple tentacle slowly snaking out from the end of one arm.

She gulped, and reached for her handgun. The creature watched with something like disdain as she aimed and fired several shots into its torso.

Amber continued emptying her gun into the monster, but it gradually stole over her that this wasn't working, and that the creature's patience, if it had any, was definitely wearing thin.

She ran out of bullets. At the same instant, the creature roared, and its tentacle lashed out at her, missing by inches.

Amber screamed shrilly. Hurling herself at the cupboard, she hammered on the door, shrieking "Let me in! Let me in!"

"What about us?" said Lisa indignantly.

"Kill it yourselves! You managed it just fine last time!" came the reply.

"Oh, thanks a lot!" yelled Lisa. "So much for making sure we get out of here alive and well!"

"I don't have a problem with getting you out of town! I still intend to keep my promise!" Amber yelled back. "But in case you hadn't already realised, I can only do that _if I'm still alive_!"

She ducked momentarily as the tentacle swept through the air again, then started banging on the cupboard door even harder.

"For the love of God, woman, let me in!" she bellowed. "If you don't then this cupboard's going through the _window_!"

"You wouldn't!" came a panicky, if slightly muffled, voice from inside the cupboard.

"_Try me_!" screeched Amber.

The cupboard opened hastily; Amber jumped in, grabbing the handle and slamming the door closed behind her. Lisa could just about hear a mutter of "Move _over_! Get your foot out of my face!" before a snarl reminded her of the monster's malignant presence in the room.

It was heading towards her friend, tentacle rising slowly above its head. Jack backed away, shaking all over with fright.

"No, no…" he begged. "Please dunt hurt me…!"

Lisa took several steps backwards, and began fumbling blindly behind her for something she could use to distract the creature. One hand, creeping along a shelf, came across something hard and smooth and rounded; she grabbed it, silently offering thanks to whoever had placed the object within reach.

"_Get away from him_!" she shrieked, and threw the object as hard as she could. She only realised, as it left her hand, that throwing a glass beaker at a ten-foot zombie with a serious grudge probably wasn't one of her better ideas.

The glass tinkled as it hit the creature on the shoulder. It might not have been the most effective weapon, but it had the desired effect; the monster turned round, snarling.

Jack relaxed a little, but only a little, because now it was Lisa's life on the line and not his. His mind raced as he tried desperately to come up with a plan. No good shooting at the thing, he knew that. But what else could he do?

Lisa, meanwhile, had realised that she was standing in front of the shelves, a veritable arsenal of impromptu missiles. She grabbed another piece of glassware, a flask this time, and hurled it straight at the creature's head.

"You hideous freak, why won't you leave us alone?" she yelled, grabbing armfuls of beakers and test-tubes and throwing them at the monster like grenades. "Why couldn't you have just stayed dead like the other zombies?"

"Kill…" it hissed, and swung a punch at Lisa. She dodged, and the blow took out the shelves behind her.

Glass, books, microscopes and wooden shelves rained down on the creature's head. It stumbled - and from the other side of the room, Jack saw his chance.

He took hold of a chair from beneath one of the desks and raised it above his head.

"You get away from her! Dunt you hurt my friend!" Jack cried, and tossed the chair at the monster.

It hit the monster right in the small of its back. Growling, it whirled round to face him.

"Jack, no!" shouted Lisa.

Jack was terrified, but trying not to show it. Looking his nemesis straight in the eye, he reached into his pocket for his gun, then yelled:

"Kill _this_!"

And he fired right into the face of the dreadful creature. Bellowing with pain and rage, it staggered backwards, raising its arms to try and shield its face. Jack kept firing - the monster kept backing away, until it came up against one of the laboratory windows.

The glass shuddered as the creature backed into it. Jack had by now used up every last bullet in his possession - but he knew exactly what to do.

Scooping up the chair he'd thrown at the monster from the floor, he gripped the back tightly, then swung the chair like a baseball bat, hitting the monster squarely in the chest.

The window smashed. With a roar of indignation, the creature fell backwards through the window. Splinters of glass flew everywhere as it plummeted to the ground below, still roaring.

"GRAAAAAAGGGH!"

Jack and Lisa rushed to the remains of the window, and looked down. They could just about see the creature falling, a tiny speck getting smaller, its roar getting fainter and fainter -

_Thump_.

A moment of silence descended. Jack and Lisa stared down at the dark streets below them, then looked at each other.

"That's it, I guess," said Lisa.

"Ha! I love to see it come back from _that_," said Jack, grinning. "No way anythin' could survive a drop like that!"

Lisa smiled. "Well done. That was nice work, Jack."

"What's going on out there? Is it gone yet?" they heard the scientist call from the cupboard.

"It had better be," came Amber's voice. "You've _still_ got your foot in my face!"

"Well, sor-_ry_, but I can't move!"

"Why not?"

"I think the door's stuck…"

"You're _kidding_."

"I've never been so serious in my life."

"You mean to say that I'm stuck in a tiny cupboard with one of Umbrella's scientist scum?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. You are. And who are you calling scum?"

"YOU! That's who I'm calling scum! And do you know _why_?"

"Why?"

"Because you're _scum_!"

Scuffling broke out from inside the cupboard. Lisa looked at Jack, and sighed.

"Does she hate _everyone _who survived the zombies?" she said.

"Guess so," said Jack. "C'mon, we better get 'em outta there before they kill each other."

They turned away from the windows and went to investigate.

The cupboard was starting to rock back and forth. Shrieks, scuffling, loud thuds and cries of "Bitch! Bitch!" issued from inside.

Jack rolled his eyes, and pulled the door open. Amber and the scientist both tumbled out onto the floor, still fighting. Amber looked like she was going to punch Dr Harlech in the nose; the scientist, in turn, had grabbed a handful of Amber's strawberry-blonde curls, and the fingernails of her other hand were digging into the police officer's face.

The two women both looked up at Jack and Lisa, then looked at each other briefly, before looking up at Jack and Lisa again. At exactly the same time, they cried:

"She started it!"

"You know what?" said Lisa irritably. "I don't care who started it. I don't _care_. I've had enough of babysitting grown-ups and getting sidetracked on this trip. Look, all I want to do is find my parents and get out! Is that too much to ask?"

"Your parents?" said Dr Harlech, frowning.

Lisa brightened.

"Do you know my parents?" she said hopefully.

"Who are they?" said Dr Harlech, letting go of Amber's hair and face, and rolling over so that she could get to her feet.

"Jonathan and Elizabeth Hartley. They work here. In the Bacter-" Lisa stopped, and corrected herself. "In the Viral Research Department. Do you know them?"

The scientist stood up.

"Yes," she said, after a long pause. "Yes, I know them."

"Did you work with them?" said Lisa.

"In a manner of speaking… yes, I did."

"Where are they? Can you take me to them?"

Dr Harlech shook her head, and Lisa's face fell.

"I don't know where they are," said the scientist. "I haven't seen them since the outbreak. In fact, you're the first people I've seen in days."

She saw the look of desolation on the young girl's face, and sighed.

"I'm really sorry, kid. I wish I could help you. But I've been hiding in this place for days, the only people I've seen have been lurching and groaning, and I really, really want to get out of the building alive. Now if you'll excuse me, I - "

A hand gripped Dr Harlech's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. She turned round, startled.

"Oh no you don't," said Amber firmly. "You're coming with us."

"But - but why? Where are we going?" protested Dr Harlech, as she found herself being dragged out of the room.

"The seventh floor," said Amber. "And don't even _think_ about trying to run away."

----------

For the past three days, Dr Clarissa Harlech had been in hiding. Now that she'd finally found the courage to emerge from her hiding place and attempt to escape the Umbrella building, she'd found herself fleeing for her life, sharing a cupboard with a scruffy police officer who'd called her scum and tried to beat her to a pulp, and then been taken hostage by said police officer and two teenagers.

They'd even gone so far as to handcuff her. It really was embarrassing.

Who were these people, anyway? Why - apart from the girl, who was looking for her parents - were they here? And what on earth did they want with her?

Dr Harlech sighed, and regarded each one of her three captors with a reluctant kind of interest.

The girl was about sixteen years old. She was quite pretty, but she looked tired and anxious, and there was a haunted look in her brown eyes. Her long, dark hair was damp and dishevelled, and her clothes and backpack were filthy with mud, slime and spots of dried blood.

The boy was about the same age as the girl. He had blue eyes and blond hair, and would probably have been quite handsome if he didn't look so pale and exhausted. Both his backpack and his clothes were spotted with mud and gore and smeared with transparent slime, and one shirt-sleeve was torn and bloodied.

Then there was the cop, a young woman about the same age as her, but taller. Her hair was shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde and curly, the curls slightly limp and singed at the ends. There were dark shadows underneath her bright green eyes, and there were traces of drying blood around her nostrils. The woman's navy-blue police uniform was a mess - pants and shirt torn in several places, sticky with slime, spattered with mud and rust-coloured patches of dried and drying blood, and reeking of smoke, earth, blood and…

"Sewer water?" said Dr Harlech aloud.

"Long story," said the cop gruffly. "Please don't ask."

"Okay," said Dr Harlech, taken aback. "But… who are you people, anyway?"

"Oh yeah," said the boy. "We forget to introduce ourselves, huh."

The boy had a strange manner of speech, like fractured English with a Spanish accent, and Dr Harlech wondered where he was from.

"Sorry 'bout that," he continued, and held out a hand. "Jack Carpenter."

"Uh, nice to meet you, Jack," said Dr Harlech hesitantly. "I'd shake your hand, but as you can see - " she indicated the handcuffs - "I'm a little tied up."

"No worries, lady. That be my best friend, Lisa Hartley," said Jack, pointing to the dark-haired girl. "An' this be - "

"Lieutenant Amber Bernstein, RPD," interrupted the cop.

Dr Harlech nodded politely.

"We saved her life," explained the girl called Lisa. "I'm not sure whether she's protecting us or we're protecting her. It kind of works both ways. And sorry about the whole cupboard thing, by the way. Amber's a wonderful person but she gets kind of nervous around homicidal giant zombies."

"So I noticed," said Dr Harlech weakly. "Um… what exactly do you want with me?"

"We're looking for Lisa's parents," said Amber. "Since you work here, you probably know this place pretty well, right? So, we figured that you could make yourself useful and be our guide. Once we've found Lisa's parents, you're free to go."

"Oh. Uh, thanks," said Dr Harlech. "I think."

"Don't worry, we'll look after you," said Lisa, smiling.

"So," said Dr Harlech to Lisa, "Let me get this straight. You, your friend Jack and Officer Bernstein are here to find your parents - and I'm meant to take you to their lab on the seventh floor, right?"

"That's right," said Lisa.

"Okay. We're going the wrong way, though."

The others stopped suddenly.

"We are? Then which way are we meant to be going?" said Lisa.

"That way," said Dr Harlech, pointing in the opposite direction. "You can get back to the stairwell this way, of course, but the other way's a lot quicker."

"All right then," said Amber. "You first, Dr Harlot."

"It's _Harlech_," said Dr Harlech, bristling. "Dr Clarissa Harlech."

"Whatever," said the policewoman dismissively. "Let's go."

They all turned around, and started to walk in the opposite direction. Occasionally Dr Harlech nodded her head to indicate which way to turn.

After some time, Amber spoke.

"Okay, Dr Harlech. We've told you who we are and what we're doing here. Now it's our turn to ask a few questions."

Dr Harlech looked panicky.

"No, no, don't worry," said Amber. "It's nothing mentally taxing. We just want some answers to a few simple questions."

"Okay…"

"How long have you been working for Umbrella?" Amber asked her.

"Three years last Tuesday," said Dr Harlech, trying to sound relaxed despite her nervousness. "Before that I used to work at Raccoon City General Hospital."

"Why did you start working for Umbrella?"

"The hospital worked me like a dog, and the money sucked. Umbrella was hiring and I saw one of their ads in the paper. They were paying good wages and I really needed the money, so I applied for a job in Pharmaceutical Research."

"Do you still work in Pharmaceutical Research?"

"No."

"Where do you work now?"

"They had me transferred to the Viral Research department three months ago. Since then I've been working as a lab assistant for Dr Theresa Goddard, and - "

"What do you know about the L-Project?" said Amber suddenly.

"What?" said Dr Harlech, thrown by the sudden question.

"Don't play dumb with me, you quack," snarled Amber. "You know _exactly _what I'm talking about. Now, I want to know everything there is to know about the L-Project - and you're going to tell me."

"But I'm only a lab assistant! I hardly know anything!" said Dr Harlech frantically. "Please don't hurt me! I'll tell you what I do know!"

"Go on, then," said Amber, quiet again. "Tell me everything you know."

"I - I know it's something to do with Umbrella's bioweapons programme," babbled Dr Harlech. "I think they're making a virus, like the T-virus but - but more powerful. I don't really know, I just made coffee and fetched Petri dishes! They hardly told me a thing about what we were doing!"

Amber gave a snort of contempt.

"Hey, don't blame me!" said the scientist. "I didn't know it was part of a bioweapons programme! I didn't even know there _was_ a bioweapons programme until last week!"

"Pathetic," said Amber, shaking her head. "Absolutely pathetic."

"Look, it's not my fault," argued Dr Harlech. "Come on, I didn't know what was going on! I was just doing my job!"

"_That's what the Nazis said_!" yelled Amber. "They killed millions of people, then told the world they didn't know what was happening - they were _just doing their job_! "Just doing your job" is no excuse for murder!"

"I'm no murderer! I don't care what you say, you stupid flatfoot, I am _not_ a murderer!"

"Don't you call me flatfoot, you - you Nazi scientist scum! You're even worse than the mercenaries! At least they only use bullets to kill people!"

"Oh, give it a rest, will you?" snapped Lisa. "Amber, she says she didn't know what was going on. Now leave it."

"What? You actually _believe_ that crap?" exclaimed Amber.

"I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt," said Lisa. "How do you know that she isn't telling the truth? I mean, thousands of people work for Umbrella - and I'm willing to bet that most of them have no idea that Umbrella's got a bioweapons programme."

"Yeah, but when they're _on_ the bioweapons programme and claiming they didn't know? Come on, that's like a kid doing equations in maths class and then claiming they don't know what algebra is!" said Amber.

"Look, she's just an assistant. She fetches stuff and helps the scientists set up the equipment, and does what she's told. I highly doubt that they sat her down and told her they were trying to wipe out a city, and asked her to help," said Lisa.

"_Thank _you," said Dr Harlech, exasperated. "At least you understand. I mean, hell, they hardly told us anything! When they first transferred me, I was told that the Viral Research department was working on a new virus-based treatment and they needed more assistants down there because of the workload! It was only when Janice and Liz told me what was really happening that I resigned from the project and…"

"Wait, wait, wait. You _quit_?" said Amber, astounded.

"Well, I tried to, anyway," said Dr Harlech. "They wouldn't let me. They said that if I left the project, I'd be "severely dealt with"."

"Oooh, no - severely dealt with? I bet that had you quaking in your little scientist's plimsolls," said Amber sarcastically.

"Look, I may not be the most well-informed scientist on the L-Project, but I'm not stupid," said Dr Harlech sharply. "Back in Pharmaceutical Research I worked with a guy who was kind of forgetful. He screwed up one day and he was told by upper management that he'd be "severely dealt with". The next day, he got run over in the company parking lot."

Lisa winced. "I see what you mean," she said. "So they had you too afraid to stop working on the L-Project, huh?"

Dr Harlech nodded.

"Typical Umbrella," growled Amber. "Those scheming, manipulative bastards will do anything to keep their nasty little secrets from getting out."

"So that means you're on my side?" said Dr Harlech hopefully.

"Not this century," said Amber, scowling. "You're still with Umbrella. Umbrella ruined my whole life, and nothing on this earth will ever get me to like an Umbrella employee, innocent or not."

"But I didn't know we were doing anything other than making medicines," said Dr Harlech helplessly. "Not until it was too late. When I found out, I tried my best to leave the project - hell, I'd have left the company altogether if I could."

"What's stopping you?" said Amber.

"I'm in a very difficult position, Officer Bernstein," said Dr Harlech. "I want to quit, but if I do, I'm screwed, because I'll lose my home, my car, my income, my free healthcare, pension, _everything_. And I'm not eligible for unemployment benefits. I have no savings, no medical insurance, and nowhere to go. Effectively, they _own_ me. Plus of course, they could just decide that I know too much for them to let me leave - and then I'll end up underneath the tyres of a company car in the parking lot, just like Ted."

"Oh," said Amber. "I see what you mean."

"I'm not the only one, either. The company's got plenty of its employees completely dependent on it," said Dr Harlech. "I know a researcher who has her rent, her taxes and her medical insurance paid for in full by Umbrella. She knows what's going on behind closed doors, but she can't quit her job, because she couldn't possibly afford to pay for all that stuff herself. To take another example at random, I know a janitor who's in debt up to his eyes - Umbrella's paying off his loans, mortgage and credit cards, but in return he's stuck working here for fifteen years, come hell or high water. And Umbrella's paying for a security guard's kids to go to college, and he doesn't want to leave because he's too concerned about his children's future."

Amber nodded.

"That's how they develop company loyalty around here," said the scientist. "The company does so much for their employees that the employees couldn't possibly manage without Umbrella."

"They got everybody too scared to leave, huh?" said Jack.

"Exactly," said Dr Harlech. "And there are a lot more stories like those - not just here, but all over."

"I can believe it," Amber muttered.

By the time they reached the stairwell, Amber - while still insisting that she would never, _never_ like anybody who worked for Umbrella - was beginning to sound almost sympathetic to the scientist's plight.

"… those leech zombie things? Yeah, I saw one of those at the precinct. Killed a guy I knew, almost killed me too. Where'd they come from? Part of Umbrella's meddling, I expect."

"Maybe, but as far as I know, nobody in the lab was testing anything on leeches. I can't understand how they got here in the first place."

"What about those things with the long tongues? What the hell are those?"

"Long tongues? I don't know, I haven't seen anything like that before."

"Lucky you. Dogs?"

"Check. I've killed a few of those."

"Crows?"

"I ran away from the crows. Though I think they might have been ravens. I can't really tell, I'm not big on ornithology."

"Giant frogs?"

Dr Harlech shuddered. "Don't even mention those. One of them nearly ate me."

"Oh, you too?" said Amber, brightening a little.

"Fifth floor corridor, next to the conference room."

"Ours was in the park."

"Well, they certainly seem to be getting on better now," commented Lisa.

"Yeah, they ain't tryin' to kill each other no more," Jack agreed.

"They sound almost… amicable."

"Dunt let Amber hear that, _amiga - _she prob'ly kick you ass for sayin' that she sound friendly with an Umbrella employee."

"True."

They were now on the tenth floor, and still descending.

"Where do you think the mercenaries went, anyway?" said Lisa.

"Renée, dunt know. Christina, dunt care," said Jack.

"Well said," said Amber from further down the stairs.

"Mercenaries?" said Dr Harlech. "What mercenaries?"

"Oh, we ran into a pair of UBCS mercenaries a little while back," said Amber. "We lost them on the way in - we're not sure where they went. One of them's all right, but the other one, Christina, is a real bitch."

"Right," said Dr Harlech. "So you're hoping this Christina woman won't show up?"

"No, I'm hoping a zombie frog ate her head. I'm _praying_ she won't show up," Amber replied. "Pity Renée isn't here, though. The UBCS involvement aside, I was actually beginning to like her."

They'd just set foot on the ninth floor landing when they heard an unearthly moan. It was coming from below them. As one, the group stopped dead and started fumbling for weapons.

Jack suddenly remembered that his gun was empty. Cursing softly, he rooted through his pockets in a frantic search for bullets. He came up with nothing.

"_Hijo de puta_," he muttered. "Hey, Amber? You got any more bullets?"

"Sorry, Jack. I've barely got enough for myself," said Amber, loading her handgun with her last handful of bullets and discarding the empty box.

"Lise?" said Jack.

Lisa too was down to her last few bullets. There were five in her gun - she'd counted - and she knew for a fact that there were only seven bullets left in the box she was carrying.

_I need these,_ was her first thought. _But so does Jack,_ was her second. _I've got five here already, but he hasn't got any. And he just saved us from that thing again, so it's the least I can do to give him a few bullets in return…_

"I've only got a few left," said Lisa, taking out the box and tipping her remaining ammunition into the palm of her hand. "But if I keep one of these and you take the rest, we'll both have six each."

"Thanks, Lise," said Jack gratefully, and took his share of the bullets. He loaded them quickly into his gun.

The flurry of activity ceased, and the waiting began. The cop, the scientist and the two teenagers stayed absolutely still and silent, listening for whatever was below them.

They heard another loud moan. It was getting closer, and now they could hear the sound of unsteady footsteps on the stairs…

"Heads up, here it comes," hissed Amber, and she leaned over the edge of the banister to get a better look. She could just see the zombie now, staggering up the stairs.

"I think I can get it from here," said Amber, taking aim.

_Dong…_

The sound of a tolling bell shattered her concentration.

"Blast," she said under her breath.

"What's that noise?" said Dr Harlech, looking up. "Sounds like a really big bell."

_Dong…_

"Must be the clock tower bell," said Lisa.

"That's not possible," said Amber, frowning. "That bell hasn't been rung -"

_Dong…_

" - for over a hundred years!"

"No, she's right," said Dr Harlech. "It's the only bell close enough to make a sound that loud."

_Dong…_

They heard another noise - the low drone of a helicopter passing overhead. They looked at each other, astonished.

"A helicopter… we're saved!" cried Dr Harlech.

_Dong…_

"Renée was right," said Lisa. "Remember that escape plan she told us about? Ring the clock tower bell to signal the rescue helicopter!"

_Dong…_

"We have to -" Lisa stopped mid-sentence. "Oh, no, my parents! We can't leave without them! We have to find them, quickly!"

_Dong…_

"Too late," said Jack sadly, pointing towards a window. "Look."

Through the tinted glass, they could see the helicopter heading rapidly towards the clock tower. Even if they'd found Lisa's parents that instant and run as fast as they could towards the clock tower, they would never have made it in time.

_Dong…_

"It won't hang around for long," said Amber, voicing the group's thoughts. "Not there. Not when there's so much dangerous stuff around."

A gloomy peace descended, with only the distant chiming of the bell and the helicopter's buzz to indicate the presence of anything outside their own private world of hurt.

But the peace didn't last for long. Their lowered eyes and bowed heads shot up at the sound of a whoosh from outside.

"Fireworks?" said Dr Harlech.

They looked out of the window, and saw something bright heading quickly towards the helicopter, which was hovering near the clock tower.

"I got a bad feeling about this…" said Jack uneasily.

The bright object reached the helicopter. For the briefest of moments, the world stopped - and then the helicopter exploded in a ball of flame.

"Holy - "

They watched, horrified, as the burning wreck of the helicopter ploughed into the clock tower. There was a second explosion and a crash of falling masonry, and the remains of the helicopter fell to earth.

There was a stunned silence.

"What the _hell_ just happened?" said Amber.

"Beats me," said Jack.

"I don't understand. What kind of lunatic would shoot down their only means of escape?" said Dr Harlech.

"It's the mercenaries," growled Amber. "It has to be! There's nobody else left alive in this town! They must have doubled back when we weren't looking, gone back to the clock tower to lure the rescue helicopter there, then blown it up so we couldn't escape!"

"That's ludicrous," said Dr Harlech. "Why would they do that? They'd die here too!"

"Well if it wasn't them, who was it? Everyone else is dead!" Amber argued.

Through the window, Lisa could see a smoking hole in the side of the clock tower. The building had been badly damaged by the explosion. That made her think about the damage done to the building when the trolley car crashed into it - it seemed incredible that the tower was still standing - and about the woman whose body they'd found in the bedroom.

She took the identity card out of her pocket, and looked at it again. The STARS emblem, the woman's picture, and the name Jill Valentine, typed on the card and scrawled in a signature.

_My best friend was on the STARS Alpha Team…_

… my friend Jill from STARS…

_… I was the only one in the police force who believed Jill and the others…_

Lisa felt cold inside. The woman had been Amber's best friend. How could she break the news that she was now a zombie? Then again, hundreds, maybe thousands of people had died in the town, and Amber hadn't yet remarked upon her friend's absence - she probably assumed the worst had happened to Jill anyway. Perhaps it would be better if she just didn't know…

"What's that, Lisa?" said Amber, noticing the card in her hand.

Lisa's heart sank.

"Amber," she began, but then found herself lost for words. Instead, she handed the card over to the police officer, closing her eyes and turning away.

Amber stared at the card in shock.

"Lisa, where did you get this?" she demanded to know.

"I found it in the clock tower," mumbled Lisa. "On - on her body."

Amber's hand closed around the small plastic card, and she shut her eyes tightly.

"Amber, I'm so sorry," whispered Lisa.

Jack and Dr Harlech both looked uncomfortable. Neither of them was sure what to say.

Amber sighed heavily, and opened her eyes. Lisa and Jack both expected tears, a howl of anguish, maybe a tirade against Umbrella's theft of her friend's life, or at least a look of utter loathing directed at Dr Harlech. Dr Harlech had clearly been expecting the same thing - she flinched when Amber looked at her, expecting to be yelled at. Instead, Amber said flatly:

"Another thing you people have to answer for."

"Uhhhhh…"

They jumped, and realised that Amber's target, temporarily forgotten, was stumbling up the last few steps of the stairs.

"Kill it, quick!" cried Dr Harlech.

Amber raised her gun again, and aimed it carefully so that the bullet would go right between the zombie's eyes -

Its head jerked up suddenly.

"Wait! Don't shoot!"

Amber dropped her gun in surprise as she saw who the "zombie" was.

"_You?_" she said. "What are you doing here? What happened to you?"

"The morphine… wearing off… help me please…" gasped the unidentified person, before collapsing in a heap at the top of the stairs.

Amber bent down to examine the body. Lisa and Jack watched with curiosity, Dr Harlech with incomprehension.

"What's going on?"

"Who is that?"

"Anyone we know?"

Amber looked at them, and smiled mirthlessly.

"Well, would you believe it," she said. "It's none other than our old friend Private Lavelle..."


	32. Inhuman Resources

****

32: Inhuman Resources

Renée opened her eyes blearily, and tried to sit up. She soon wished she hadn't as the pain cut through her like a red-hot knife.

"Oww…" she said, clenching her teeth; it even hurt to breathe. "Hey guys, how about giving me something for the pain, huh?"

"Not until you tell us where you've been all this time," said Amber.

"Nice to see you again too, Amber," said Renée dryly. "Mind telling me what your problem is?"

"My problem is that I just found out my best friend's dead," retorted Amber.

"Well why take it out on me? _I_ didn't kill her," said Renée, exasperated. "Come on, Amber, I'm in agony. Christina and I have helped save your asses plenty of times, so why won't you help me now?"

"I'll help you when you've helped us with our enquiries," said Amber flatly.

"Oh, brother," sighed Renée. "All this time, I thought you were with the RPD. Turns out I've got a Gestapo wannabe on my ass."

She lay back on the floor and breathed a very bad word.

"All right, where did you and Corporal Bitch Queen run off to?" said Amber.

Renée rolled her eyes.

"We were looking for another way in because we expected the foyer to be full of zombie employees, and we found a side entrance we could use," she said in a sing-song tone. "We didn't know you weren't following us until we were about four storeys up. I wanted to go back down and look for you but Christina wouldn't let me go. She used the "chain of command" thing on me again, and I can't argue with that."

"So did you get to wherever you were going?" said Amber.

"No," said Renée. "At least, I didn't. We were originally heading for the helipad control tower on top of the building, so we could use their radio equipment, but then we ran into some zombies and Christina and I got separated."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know. Like I said, we got separated. She's probably still heading for the control tower."

"Are there any survivors down there?"

"Don't think so. I haven't seen anyone except Christina, and now you guys. Are you happy now?"

"Well, I'm reasonably satisfied that you're not trying to kill us," said Amber. "So yes. Okay, Dr Harriett, do your thing."

"I can't."

"What?" said Amber and Renée.

"Not _here_," said Dr Harlech. "I don't have any painkillers with me, and that wound will need more than a few squirts of First Aid spray to fix up. Besides, this floor's probably crawling with germs; it's not hygienic to carry out any medical procedures here. And it's _Harlech_, by the way."

"So what do you propose we do?" said Amber.

"There's a medical room on this floor, not far from here. If we take her there, then I can tend to her properly, in a sterile environment with all the medicine and equipment I need. Oh, and you might want to take off my handcuffs as well, Officer Bernstein. Whatever I may have said at med school, I can't treat wounds with my hands tied behind my back…"

----------

Lisa gave a squeal of horror, and covered her eyes. Renée shuddered, and looked away. Dr Harlech looked shocked, as did Amber to a lesser extent - she'd been present at some very gory crime scenes before now, although few of them had been quite as unpleasant as this.

The room was covered in blood. The sheets and pillow on the bed were soaked in it, the furniture was sprayed and smeared with it, and bloody handprints covered the once-white walls. In the middle of the floor were two headless corpses, but no indication as to how the victims had met their horrible end.

The last of the group to arrive at the scene, Jack went white when he saw what was inside the room. A moment later, when he caught the smell of congealing blood, he gagged, then clapped his hand over his mouth and bolted from the room.

"So much for the sterile environment," said Amber, looking disgusted. "Yuck."

"Can we get out of here?" said Lisa miserably. "I feel sick."

Her nausea was not helped in the slightest by the sound of Jack throwing up in the corridor outside.

"O-kay," said Dr Harlech, motioning for the others to back out of the room, "Perhaps the floor was cleaner after all. Let's find somewhere else to take her, shall we? I'll just grab a few things from in here, and we can find an empty office or something to work in."

The rest of the group didn't need to be told twice. They left at once. Dr Harlech looked quickly around the room, then flung open the medicine cabinet. She squinted slightly at the contents, before admitting defeat and pulling out a pair of glasses from the breast pocket of her lab coat.

With her glasses giving her the clear vision she needed to read labels, she grabbed a bottle of morphine tablets, a First Aid spray, two packets of a herb mixture that looked vaguely beneficial, a water bottle, a roll of bandages, and a set of surgical implements, and shoved them all in her coat pockets.

When she emerged from the medical room, the pockets of her lab coat bulging, she was met with the sight of Lisa and Amber trying (and mostly failing) to carry Renée down the corridor and into an office, while further down the corridor Jack was leaning out of an open window, retching violently.

"Mind her legs! You're going to drop her!"

"No, I'm not…"

"Go left a bit… no, no, not my left, _your left_!"

"Watch her head on that doorway!"

"OW!"

"Whoops."

"Here, let me give you a hand," offered Dr Harlech, walking briskly over to the door and holding it open for them.

For the first time since their initial meeting, Amber smiled at her.

"Hey, thanks," she said.

"No problem," said Dr Harlech. "In you go."

Lisa and Amber carried Renée inside, this time with far fewer accidents. The scientist waited until they were well clear of the doorway, then looked around.

"Jack?" she called.

"_Madre de Dios,_" groaned Jack from the window. "I hope I never see anythin' that gross ever 'gain… ugh…"

He straightened up, breathing deeply.

"Jack, we're going into the office now," said Dr Harlech. "You'd better come with us. It's not safe to be out here alone."

"Yeah," said Jack, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Yeah, okay. Right behind you, Dr H."

The office, in sharp contrast to the medical room, was spotlessly clean save for dust on the windowsills and the occasional coffee cup mark on the desk.

"This will do," said Dr Harlech. "Okay, put her down on the desk."

The desk was covered with books and papers; Amber dealt with this small problem by sweeping them all onto the floor with one arm, and dumping Renée's feet onto the desk. Together, she and Lisa laid the wounded mercenary on the cheap plywood desk, then they stooped to pick up all the debris from the floor.

"Thank you," said Dr Harlech. "Right, uh… Renée, was it? Let's see what I can do for you."

"I didn't know they'd legalised euthanasia yet," quipped Renée.

"Don't be absurd," said Dr Harlech, pulling Renée's shirt up over her stomach and unwinding the bloodstained bandages so that she could properly examine the wound. "It's - oh, that's quite a nasty wound, I have to say, but I don't think it's grounds for mercy killing. What happened, exactly?"

"Hit by shrapnel from an exploding barrel," said Renée.

"And when did this happen?"

"About four o'clock."

"So… approximately six to eight hours ago. Has the wound been treated in the meantime?"

"Christina removed most of the shrapnel, I think, and she cleaned it up a little. She used some First Aid spray to disinfect the wound and she gave me some morphine for the pain."

"How much did she give you?"

Renée told her. Dr Harlech looked surprised.

"She could have given you more than that."

"She said it was too dangerous to give me more than that."

"I don't see why. You were well within the safe dosage. Of course, you would have experienced some drowsiness."

"Guess she thought I couldn't afford to be drowsy," said Renée.

"I suppose so," admitted Dr Harlech. "I know I've had to keep my wits about me for the past few days. Okay, now _very carefully_, sit up. I'm going to give you some morphine pills. You can't swallow lying down, you could choke."

"Yes, Mother," said Renée, grimacing as she sat up.

"I brought some water for you to wash them down, too," said Dr Harlech. She handed the water bottle to Renée, and tipped some of the small white morphine pills into Renée's palm.

"Thanks," said the mercenary. "I've always had trouble dry-swallowing pills."

She raised her hand to her lips and tipped the morphine pills into her mouth, then she unscrewed the water bottle's lid and washed the pills down with two or three gulps of water.

"They should start to kick in pretty soon," Dr Harlech told her. "Now lie down, and I'll clean this up for you…"

Renée lay down obediently.

Meanwhile, Amber and Lisa had been picking up all the books and papers now scattered on the floor, and stacking them in neat piles against the desk so that Dr Harlech wouldn't trip over them while she was working.

"What is all this stuff?" said Lisa.

"Nothing interesting," said Amber, picking up a book on fair hiring practices and placing it atop of a book about unfair dismissal. "Just a bunch of stuff about employee rights and company policies, you know, the usual Human Resources department junk."

"Oh yes, here's another one," said Lisa, pulling a book out from the heap. It was a large book on the subject of employee rights, imaginatively entitled "Employee Rights". She opened it, skimmed through the pages, then closed it and stacked it on top of the other books.

"That looked boring."

"It was. I didn't understand one word in ten, and at age four I had a reading age of nine and three-quarters."

"You read a lot, Lisa?"

"Uh-huh. I love to read. My parents always encouraged me to read a lot when I was a kid. They used to read to me at bedtime when I was little."

Lisa sighed, and carried on scooping up papers from the floor.

"I'm not a big reader," said Amber. "The newspapers, mostly. I like to read sometimes, but I don't really have the time for it, in my line of work. Besides, after going over incident reports for hours on end at work, I don't feel like reading anything once I get home."

"That's understandable," said Lisa.

"Though at least the incident reports are more interesting than this stuff. I feel sorry for whoever has to work here," said Amber. "There's absolutely nothing of interest - hello, what's this?"

She picked up a rumpled sheet of paper, smoothed out the creases, and read it.

"What's that, Amber?" said Lisa.

"An interesting memo," said Amber, and handed it over.

FAO Edward Hitchens, Department Of Human Resources

Re: Transfer of staff to Viral Research

Owing to the nature of our latest project, it has been necessary to transfer several of our staff from other departments to the Viral Research Department. These staff will mostly be working as laboratory assistants to the existing members of the project's research team, although some of them may be privy to classified information. The latter must be monitored closely by Security until the project's completion. Monitoring of the new laboratory assistants has been deemed unnecessary for the time being.

The complete list of transferred staff reads as follows:

Ackerman, Denise M. (Pharmaceutical Research)  
Aspen, Kyle F. (Bacteriological Research)  
Belmont, Anna (Pharmaceutical Development)  
Chisholm, Geraldine E. (Bacteriological Research)  
Clitheroe, Emily G. (Bacteriological Research)  
Farman, William B. (Pharmaceutical Development)  
Harlech, Clarissa S. (Pharmaceutical Research)  
Harris, Deborah A. (Pharmaceutical Research)  
Lewis, Sandra C. (Bacteriological Research)  
Jackson, Tallulah L. (Bacteriological Research)  
North, Marlon D. (Pharmaceutical Development)  
Pickering, Joseph H. (Pharmaceutical Development)  
Rodat, Stephen (Pharmaceutical Research)  
Summers, Marianne P. (Pharmaceutical Research)  
White, Amanda (Bacteriological Research)  
Wilder-Hatfield, Richard (Pharmaceutical Development)

Please make the appropriate adjustments to the payroll and employment records.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Dr Wilfred Hazlitt,  
Director of Raccoon City Branch Headquarters

"Well, Dr H, your story holds up," said Lisa. "This is dated exactly three months ago."

"Of course it holds up," said Dr Harlech, with a note of irritation in her voice. "I was telling the truth."

"Sorry," said Lisa meekly. "How's Renée doing?"

"I've cleaned and stitched up the affected area as best I can, and used some First Aid spray on it. That'll aid the natural healing process, though I don't think there's anything I can do to prevent scarring, I'm afraid," said Dr Harlech.

"That's okay, doc. I wasn't planning on entering any swimsuit competitions anyway," said Renée, with a weak grin.

"All right. But bear in mind that I haven't worked as a medical practitioner for three years, and I'm not a qualified surgeon anyway," warned Dr Harlech. "It'll do for now, but you will need hospital treatment for a wound like that."

"Okay," said Renée. "If I make it out of town alive, I'll get to a hospital right away."

She sat up a little stiffly, and looked down at the line of stitches across her torso. It wasn't perfect, but it would do until she could find someone better qualified to do the job.

"Thanks, doc," she said.

"You're welcome, Private," said Dr Harlech. "Just try and take it easy from now on."

Renée laughed.

"Easier said than done, in my line of work," she said, swinging her legs off the desk and standing up. "Shall we move on, then?"

"Yes, let's go," said Dr Harlech, who had already started packing away her medical supplies and shoving them back into her lab coat pockets.

Amber waited until neither of the Umbrella-paid members of the group was looking her way, then said to Lisa out of the corner of her mouth:

"Hand me that memo, Lisa."

Lisa obediently handed it over; the policewoman folded it into four, and surreptitiously pocketed it.

"A little something for the records," she murmured, with the ghost of a smile as she watched the mercenary and the scientist leave the room. "And don't you look at me like that," she added, seeing the look of shock on Lisa's face. "As far as I'm concerned, this is a crime scene. I'm doing my duty for what's left of the RPD, and gathering evidence."

"Okay, okay. I'm not going to stop you," Lisa sighed. "I know it's an offence to obstruct an officer in the course of his or her duty."

"Good. You'd better give Jack a nudge, so he knows we're leaving. He's in his own little world over there."

Amber left the room, and closed the door behind her.

Jack was standing by the window, staring blankly out at the devastated city on the other side of the glass.

"Hey," said Lisa, touching him on the shoulder. "We're leaving now."

"What a mess," said Jack, apparently oblivious to what she'd just said. "Look at it. Buildings in ruins, fires, crashed cars - people dead in the streets."

"I know," said Lisa. "It's awful."

"Pretty lousy place to be on vacation. Where we be, anyway?"

"Sorry?" said Lisa, taken aback by the incongruity of the remark.

"This weird city. How we get here?"

"Don't play around, Jack, you know why we're here," said Lisa, sighing. "We're in the Umbrella building. We came here to find my parents."

Jack looked blank.

"Your parents?"

"Yes!"

"Oh."

There was a disconcertingly long pause.

"Do I know you?" he said suddenly.

Lisa laughed nervously.

"Don't be silly, Jack. It's me, Lisa," she said.

Jack's blank expression didn't change.

"Lisa Hartley," she repeated. "You know - your best friend?"

"I think you got the wrong guy, _chica_," said Jack, shaking his head. "I dunt know any Lisas."

"Yes you do! Me!" said Lisa, almost ready to scream with frustration. "Jack, you _know _me! You've known me for months! You went to Raccoon City High with me! You fell off your skateboard in my front yard and destroyed Mom's prize tulips! You took me to Antonio's party! You cried when your aunt died and I stayed at your apartment because you were scared! And when you went out to get drunk, I brought you home again! You saved me from zombies! We stole that car together! We got attacked by a giant frog! We almost got crushed by an out-of-control trolley car! You pushed that monster out of the window! Don't you _remember_?"

Still the look of polite incomprehension on Jack's face. Cold realisation dawned.

"You - you don't remember me, do you?" said Lisa.

Jack shook his head.

"_Jack_!" Lisa wailed. "I don't understand! How can you have forgotten everything that's happened to you? What's happened to you? _What's wrong with you, Jack_?"

"Jack? That my name?" said Jack, looking puzzled.

Lisa started to cry.

"Oh, hey," said Jack gently. "Dunt cry, _chica_. I dunt know who you be, but you be a real pretty girl. You got nice eyes, they gonna go all pink an' sore if you cry."

"Try and remember, Jack," said Lisa tearfully. "Please try. Can you remember anything? Anything at all?"

Jack's forehead creased as he frowned.

"I remember… I remember a lady," he said hesitantly. "Real pretty lady. She got dark hair, long dark hair, kinda like you hair. Dark eyes too. She be my mama, I think. But I think she die a long time ago. I remember she be lyin' on the floor, real still, an'… there be blood on the floor. An' she have a ring on her finger. A gold one."

"Like this one?" said Lisa, grabbing the chain around his neck and holding up the gold wedding ring strung on it, so he could see it.

"Yeah, it be just like that one. That be the same ring?"

"Yes, yes, it's the same ring," Lisa assured him. "You kept it so you could remember her. Do you remember anything else?"

Jack shook his head.

"I no can remember anythin' else. Just that."

"Well, then just hold onto that," said Lisa. "Keep remembering it. Maybe you'll start remembering other things again."

"Maybe," said Jack, looking uncertain.

"But Jack, we have to leave now, okay?" said Lisa, taking him by the hand. "It's not safe here. We have to go somewhere else now."

Jack nodded.

"'Kay. Where we goin'?"

"We're going to the seventh floor, to look for my mom and dad."

"It be safe there?"

"I don't know, Jack. I really hope so."

Lisa led him towards the door, and grasped the doorknob firmly, pushing the door open. She stepped out into the corridor with Jack in tow, and they were greeted with a chorus of shrieks.

"What on earth - ?"

Amber, Dr Harlech and Renée charged past them, screaming "GetoutoftheWAY!" in one breath.

"Oh, what _now_?" Lisa yelled at the ceiling. "What freak of nature are we up against _this_ time?"

"Hey, look, a giant moth," said Jack, pointing to where the three women had been standing just microseconds previously.

"A giant moth. Of _course_. We've had pretty much everything else, haven't we?" said Lisa, her voice shaking with cold rage. "What next? House-sized houseflies? Cockroaches the size of Canada? Giant mutant monkeys climbing up the side of the goddamn clock tower?Hey, how about a _dinosaur_ while we're at it? Huh? How about…"

She froze mid-sentence.

"Did you just say giant moth?"

"Uh-huh. Right over… there…"

And indeed, there was a gigantic moth hovering at the end of the corridor, its massive, speckled yellow-brown wings beating hummingbird-fast. Huge multi-faceted eyes, set in an evil-looking face, glinted horribly in the light.

Jack may have forgotten a lot of things, his own name included, but he could remember just enough to know that a giant moth definitely wasn't a good thing.

"Uh-oh," he said.

"It's okay," said Lisa, trying hard to reassure herself that they weren't in any danger. It wasn't working very well. "It's just a giant butterfly that comes out at night. There's no such thing as an evil butterfly. Butterflies don't hurt anybody. So this thing can't hurt us, right?"

She looked at the moth again, then at Jack.

"Right?" she repeated hopefully.

The moth was advancing, slowly but with an intent gleam in the insect-like eyes. Its wing beats - _whumpwhumpwhumpwhump_ - cut through the air and sent draughts of it wafting down the corridor, ruffling their hair and clothes in an artificial wind.

It was slightly comforting to know that even ordinary moths had creepy-looking faces, when viewed through a microscope - Lisa had done this in Biology class some years before. But it was only slightly comforting.

Was it speeding up, as it sensed the close proximity of fresh human meat? It looked more and more menacing, and almost - hungry?

"Wrong," said Jack.

The moth was flying faster now, and rising; its head was almost brushing the ceiling, its wings little more than a yellowish blur high in the air. It looked as if it was waiting for something. What it was waiting for, Lisa had no idea. But she had no intention of sticking around to find out.

"Here's the plan," she hissed. "We turn around, and run like hell."

"Good plan," Jack agreed. He didn't like the way the moth was looking at him.

Without warning, the moth swooped down -

"Run!"

For what felt like the twentieth time that day, they ran, with the giant moth in close pursuit. They were acutely, painfully aware of the aching in their muscles, the fatigue that clouded their brains, and the emptiness in their stomachs reminding them of how long they'd been fuelled by adrenaline and fear alone.

_How long can we keep running?_ thought Lisa. _I don't think we can go on for much longer. God, I'm so tired…_

They were running out of what little energy they had, and the moth was gaining on them. Lisa and Jack both knew they wouldn't make it to the stairwell, and even if they did then the moth would simply follow them downstairs.

Lisa spied a door on the left.

"Quick! In here!" she yelled, and darted towards it, dragging Jack after her.

"Ow!"

In their haste to get inside, Jack clipped his head on the side of the doorframe. He fell forwards into the room and hit the floor. Lisa shrieked as she saw the moth just outside the door, and slammed it shut.

On the other side, she could hear the moth making a sort of screeching noise, a horrible noise that sent shivers racing down to the small of her back. She shuddered.

Jack sat up, groaning. He clutched at his head.

"Ugh… my head. What just happen, Lise? Where the hell we be now?" he said.

"Well, we - hey, Jack, you remembered my name!" cried Lisa.

Jack looked bewildered.

"What? Course I remember you name, Lise," he said. "I no can forget you even if I try. But how we get from that office to here?"

"You don't remember?"

"Last thing I remember be Dr H tellin' me to come inside, 'cause she say it ain't safe to be alone. Dunt remember anythin' after that."

"A few minutes ago, you couldn't remember anything _before _that. You lost your memory."

"I dunt remember that," said Jack, rubbing his head.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," conceded Lisa. "Anyway, you had temporary memory loss and after Dr Harlech finished patching Renée up, we left the office. Next thing we know, Amber and Renée and Dr Harlech are running past us yelling to get out of the way, and then this giant moth comes along. We ran away from it, and came in here to escape."

"This moth thing still be outside, then?"

Lisa nodded. Jack sighed, and leaned back against the door.

"What we gonna do now?" he said.

"Amber and the others are probably downstairs by now. We have to get downstairs somehow, without this moth following us."

"How we gonna do that?"

"We'll have to kill it, or avoid it."

"Can we kill it?"

"I expect so, but it'll take more than twelve handgun bullets to kill. That's all we've got left, too."

"Wish I ignore Christina an' never throw away my knife," said Jack regretfully.

"It wouldn't have done much good anyway," said Lisa.

They both sighed, and looked around. Their surroundings were entirely unremarkable; they were in another office, furnished with several filing cabinets, two bookcases stacked full of bulging files, two computer desks with paperwork strewn about them, and a large cupboard, contents unknown.

It was starting to rain outside. Jack sat and listened to the sound of raindrops hitting the windows, while Lisa wandered around the room.

She picked up a sheet of paper from one of the desks - a brief handwritten memo addressed to the ninth floor Security office. Further investigation of the paperwork confirmed their location.

"We're in a security office," she told Jack. "Do you think there might be some weapons here?"

"Could be," said Jack.

"Okay. You stay there and rest for a minute. I'll see if I can find anything."

Lisa began searching the desk for bullets, opening the drawers and searching the piles of paper.

Jack heard her laugh as she opened the bottom right-hand drawer.

"What you got there, Lise?" he said.

In reply, Lisa held up two boxes of bullets in one hand, and what appeared to be a half-full bottle of vodka.

Jack grinned. "Nice work, Lise. So we got more bullets, an' somethin' good to drink. Anythin' else useful?"

"Not in this desk. I'll check the other one."

Lisa pocketed one set of bullets, threw the other to Jack, and set the vodka bottle carefully on the desk. She crossed the room to the other desk and continued her search.

Jack watched her with admiration in his eyes. He loved watching Lisa. Even when she was dishevelled, dirty and tired, she was still the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Okay, I found a lighter," Lisa said, holding it up so Jack could see. "Not sure what good it'll do, but you never know. And - oh, good, there's a box of tissues here. I can use these to clean off this slime. Stupid leeches."

"You want me to help?" offered Jack.

"Please," said Lisa. "If you could get some of the slime off my arms and my back, that would be wonderful. It's starting to dry and I feel all sticky."

Jack got up. Grabbing a handful of tissues from the box on the desk, he started to wipe the transparent slime from Lisa's arms and shoulders.

"Thank you," said Lisa.

"Dunt mention it," said Jack, flicking away one of the used tissues. "I dunt blame you for wantin' to get rid of this goop - if I be you, I would wanna get it off me too."

"Don't throw that on the floor, Jack," said Lisa disapprovingly. "Use the trashcan, for crying out loud, that's what it's there for."

"It no be like anyone gonna care any more," said Jack, but he saw the severe look in Lisa's eyes and gave in.

He picked up the discarded, wadded-up tissue and dropped it into a trashcan. It landed on the bottom of the trashcan, just missing an important-looking document. Jack nodded to himself, and turned away.

"Hey," he said, and turned back. The sight of the document had sparked his interest. He picked the paper out of the trash, and laid it on the desk to read.

"What's that, Jack?" said Lisa, scraping some slime off the back of her neck with another tissue.

"I find it in the trash," said Jack.

"That's not hygienic, Jack," said Lisa, with a sniff.

"Screw hygienic," said Jack. He looked excited. "Read this!"

"All right, but I'm not _touching_ it," said Lisa.

Eyeing the document suspiciously, as if she feared infection, she started to read:

Classified Material - For Security Use Only  
L-Project Laboratory Security Protocols

Further to previous information regarding the top-secret "L-Project" assignment, a location for the research has now been confirmed. The L-Project laboratory is located on level B5 and is accessible only via the main elevator - it is vital that no unauthorised personnel can access this area, accidentally or otherwise.

Anyone not involved with the "L-Project" will be unable to access level B5 via the elevator, as a ten-digit password must be entered in order to access the level. Only members of the L-Project team, the Head of Security, the Director and myself will know this password.

In the unlikely event that the password is used by unauthorised personnel and level B5 is accessed, it will be impossible to access the laboratory itself, as a special key will be required to open the laboratory doors from the outside. There are only two copies of this key, both of them in the possession of "L-Project" researchers Dr Janice Redmond and Dr Elizabeth Hartley. Further copies of this key are unavailable at this time.

In the event that one of these keys is stolen and used to access the laboratory, Security will be alerted and ordered to apprehend the intruder. Use of deadly force is authorised. The intruder will then be disposed of as the Director sees fit.

Please ensure that any rumours circulating the building regarding the "L-Project" or anything related to the "L-Project" are quashed immediately.

Dr Linda J. Lampeter,  
Head of Research

It was a shock to see it in print. She'd known that her mother and father had been working on a project of some sort, and guessed that it was probably the L-Project, but to see her suspicions confirmed in writing was quite frightening.

"So my mom and dad _are_ part of the L-Project," said Lisa quietly. "I was hoping that maybe I was wrong."

Forgetting that she didn't want to touch anything that had been in the trash, she folded the document and put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

"We should tell the others," she said.

"Yeah, but how we gonna get outta here, Lise?" said Jack. "We got a big-ass moth outside the door."

"I think…" said Lisa, stalling for time while her brain worked overtime trying to find a solution to this problem.

_No way out of here except the window, which is a really stupid option. Is there anything we can use as a weapon? I don't really want to try handgun bullets. I don't think they'll work on something that big._

"Maybe you oughta drink some vodka," said Jack, chuckling. "My aunt say she always think better with vodka."

"No, Jack, I don't think that's a good idea," said Lisa. "Vodka's pretty much useless in a situation like this. I mean, it's not like it would even make a good weapon."

"I dunt know 'bout that," said Jack, looking thoughtful. "You could throw the bottle at it. Or set fire to it. Alcohol be flammable. I remember Aunt Rosa spill some tequila on the table once an' dint notice, then she drop her cigarette in it by accident an' set fire to the table. Man, you shoulda heard her yell."

"All very interesting, but - "

Lisa stopped in the middle of the sentence. She looked at the vodka bottle on the first desk, then at the lighter she'd found on the other desk, then at the box of tissues.

"Jack," she announced, "You're a genius. You've just given me a brilliant idea."

"What you have in mind, Lise?" said Jack.

"Have you ever heard of a Molotov cocktail?"

----------

Amber and the others, meanwhile, were quietly panicking.

"Oh no, those poor children," moaned Dr Harlech. "You don't think the moth got them, do you?"

"I heard screams," said Renée, reluctantly.

"Those were running-away screams, not "help I'm dying" screams," said Amber. "Trust me, I know. I've heard plenty of both in the past few days."

"So what should we do? Should we go back for them?" said Dr Harlech.

"We'll have to," said Renée. "We can't just leave them there alone."

Amber reddened with embarrassment as the spider incident came back to haunt her, along with the time she'd hidden in the closet. Running had saved her life on many occasions before now, but now she was ashamed of her cowardice.

_Time to redeem myself_, she thought_._

"Come on," she said firmly. "We're going back upstairs."

----------

"On the count of three…" whispered Lisa, as she and Jack crept behind the door. "One…"

They gripped the doorknob.

"Two…"

They turned it slowly, not really wanting to open the door but knowing they had to, despite the risk of being eaten the moment they set foot outside.

"Three!"

They flung the door open and rushed out of the room, makeshift Molotov cocktail at the ready. The moth was stationed on the ceiling, and its wings fluttered to attention as it saw them coming.

"Quick, throw it, throw it!" cried Lisa. "But don't forget to -"

Too late - the bottle had already left Jack's hand. It smashed against the moth's head, spraying broken glass and vodka everywhere.

" - light it," said Lisa.

The moth, unharmed but thoroughly enraged, dropped from the ceiling and flapped angrily towards them.

"You forgot to light it!" yelled Lisa. "How could you forget to light it? Idiot! Now we're going to die, and it's all your fault!"

"My fault?"

"Yes, _your_ fault!"

They both ducked as the moth swooped overhead. Cursing in English and Mexican Spanish respectively, they tried to work out what to do next.

"We shoot it?"

"No, don't be stupid, that won't work! It's too big!"

"We can throw the lighter at it?"

"The lighter'll blow up, and so will we at this distance!"

"We be pretty screwed, then."

"Oh, _you're_ observant!"

"Hey!" shouted somebody in the distance. "You two, get down!"

Lisa and Jack threw themselves to the floor and shut their eyes tightly. Aside from the whirring of the moth's wings as it flew, and a strange little noise that she didn't recognise, nothing interesting seemed to be happening. Wondering what on earth was going on, Lisa and Jack opened one eye each and looked up.

There was a whoosh, and something streaked overhead. It hit the moth and exploded into a fireball on impact, setting the creature on fire.

The moth screeched as it burst into flames. Soon its whole body was ablaze; its wings were burning like paper, and its antennae were two long streaks of flame. It circled round one last time, before finally expiring in mid-air.

Lisa and Jack rolled out of the way just in time as the moth crashed to the floor. They stared at the burning carcass, stunned by what had just happened. When it finally occurred to them to see who their saviour had been, they rotated through 180 degrees and saw the figure standing at the end of the hall.

It was a mercenary, but one unlike any of the UBCS soldiers that they'd seen before. The living ones were young, female, semi-evil and vaguely attractive in their own way - the dead ones had been invariably male and in their twenties or thirties.

This one, however, was different. His exact age was difficult to determine - he was one of those people who could be thirty or fifty-five, or any age in between. His hair was snow-white and cropped short, his eyes were a steely blue, and his expression was grim. He was dressed in the standard UBCS uniform, and was carrying what appeared to be a grenade launcher.

"Thank you," said Lisa.

The man nodded stiffly.

"Um… who are you?" she ventured.

"Nicholai Ginovaef," came the gruff reply, heavily accented with Russian. "Umbrella Biohazard-"

"We know," interrupted Lisa. "We've met some of your friends."

Nicholai Ginovaef scowled, obviously irritated by the interruption.

"So you are familiar with the organisation. Interesting. Exactly how did you come to meet some of my "friends", as you call them?"

"We rescue two of 'em," put in Jack.

"Oh?" Nicholai looked briefly surprised, but recovered quickly. "Might I ask who?"

"Renée Lavelle and Christina - uh, Ardizzone, I think."

Nicholai raised an eyebrow. "I have been looking for them and the other surviving members of my team for quite some time now. I would be interested in any information you could provide me with."

"I don't know where Christina is. She's somewhere in the building, I know that. The last we heard of her, she was heading for the helipad control tower to use the radio equipment. Renée was with us until we saw that giant moth. I think she went downstairs."

"Hmm," said Nicholai. "Thank you. You have been most helpful."

He turned sharply on his heel and strode away.

"No, wait! Don't go! " Lisa called after him. "What about us?"

"What about you?" said Nicholai coldly.

"You're not going to leave us here, are you?" she said.

"I see no reason why not," said Nicholai. "I saved your life. What more do you want?"

"But where are you _going_?" persisted Lisa.

"To find the people we were sent here to find," said Nicholai, as he walked away.

"Survivors, right? But _we're_ survivors! You found us! Shouldn't you be looking after us?" cried Lisa.

"Who said anything about survivors?" said Nicholai simply, and left.

"What'd he mean, "who say anythin' 'bout survivors"?" said Jack, mystified. "I think that be the whole point of the mission, right? I mean, dint Renée say they be sent here to rescue survivors?"

"Yes," said Lisa. "She did, didn't she?"

She stood up and hauled Jack to his feet.

"I think those mercenaries have some explaining to do," she said grimly.

----------

Amber and Renée charged back up the stairs. Dr Harlech, unused to such exertion, was struggling to keep up.

"I thought… I told you to… take it easy, Renée," she gasped.

"Explain to me, in no more than twenty words, exactly how it is possible for me to take it easy when I'm in a city full of things that want to chew my head off," said Renée, taking the stairs two at a time.

Dr Harlech's mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Good point," she admitted lamely.

Amber had already reached the top of the stairs. She left the stairwell and stepped out into the corridor, dreading what she might find there.

"Lisa?" she called. "Jack?"

"Yes?"

Amber's shoulders sagged with relief. That was Lisa, and she sounded perfectly okay. Given the close relationship she had with her friend, that meant Jack was fine too.

"Thank God for that," she murmured. Aloud, she said:

"Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, fine," said Jack, as he and Lisa came into view. "An' dunt worry 'bout the moth, it ain't gonna bother us no more."

"What, you killed that thing?" said Renée sceptically, nearly frightening the life out of Amber, who hadn't noticed her come up behind her. "Now that I can't believe."

"Oh, believe it," said Dr Harlech, making her way up the last few stairs. "Those kids killed a giant zombie by pushing it out of the window. I bet they didn't have much problem with a moth."

"Giant zombie? Like the one you saw before?" said Renée.

"Exactly the same one we see b'fore. An' no, I dunt know how it manage to survive an explosion like that either," said Jack. "But I dunt think it gonna come back 'gain, no after I push it out the window, thirteen floors up."

"We didn't kill the moth, though," added Lisa.

"Well then, who did?" said Renée.

"A friend of yours, actually. Goes by the name of Nicholai Ginovaef," said Lisa.

Renée looked startled.

"What? You saw the Sarge?" she said.

"Yeah, an' he say that you guys ain't here to pick up survivors," said Jack accusingly. "What you got to say for that?"

He and Lisa thought that this statement would prompt an awkward silence, or at least some wild excuses and obvious lies on Renée's part, as she tried to cover up some horrible secret reason for being in Raccoon City. However, Renée simply looked confused.

"What?" she said. "That can't be right… Mikhail Victor told us specifically that this was a search-and-rescue mission. Mikhail's a Lieutenant and a good man; he wouldn't lie to us. Are you sure that's what the Sarge said?"

"I asked where he was going. He said "To find the people we were sent here to find", and when I said we were survivors and he should be looking after us, he said "Who said anything about survivors?"," said Lisa.

"I don't get it," said Renée, shaking her head. "What did he mean, _we_? Who's _we_? He can't be talking about us, because I know why we're here, and that's to find the survivors and get them out of the city."

"So who is he talking about?" said Amber.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Renée. "Lisa, do you mind _not _staring at my nose?"

"Sorry," said Lisa, who'd been watching Renée's face closely for any slight indication of dishonesty. All she could see, however, was genuine puzzlement. Either the mercenary was a very, _very_ good actress, or she really didn't understand why Nicholai had said what he'd said.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," said Dr Harlech dismissively. "You kids are safe, that's all that matters. Come on, let's go back downstairs and I'll take you straight to the Viral Research department."

"Okay, lead the way, Dr Harley," said Amber cheerfully.

"It's _Harlech_."

"Sorry."

----------

They reached the Viral Research department quickly and without incident. There were no zombies or any other monsters to contend with, and the bright lights made them feel a lot more at ease.

There was just one problem. They couldn't find the Hartleys' office.

"Don't tell me they didn't order the nameplates yet, or something," sighed Amber.

"Where _is_ it?" said Renée.

"Hey, don't look at me," said Lisa, annoyed. "I didn't even know they'd moved."

"The memo said it was in the middle of the Viral Research department," said Amber, recalling the document she'd found in the Hartleys' former office. "Apparently they're sharing it with a Dr Alistair Morton."

"How come you remembered his name and not mine?" said Dr Harlech.

"I can remember your name perfectly, Dr Harman," said Amber.

"_Harlech_," growled Dr Harlech.

"Yes, that's right. Is this the centre of the department?" said Amber.

"The exact centre," confirmed Dr Harlech. "Dr Morton's office, if I recall correctly, was right here."

She pointed to a door which, in the face of her testimony, was marked "Dr Stacey Evans".

"Looks like you don't recall correctly, Dr H," said Renée. "I don't think this Alistair Morton guy prefers to be known as Stacey - except maybe on Saturday nights," she added, with a snigger.

"All right," sighed Amber. "Everyone spread out and look for the Hartley/Morton office."

They spread out. Several minutes of fruitless searching, they regrouped.

"Okay," said Amber. "This time we're looking for a Dr Theresa Goddard."

"What?" said Dr Harlech, looking suddenly petrified.

"Well, surely you know where you work," said Amber reasonably. "You said you were her lab assistant - if I recall correctly."

They fanned out again, only to regroup once again six minutes later, having searched the entire corridor.

"No luck."

"Nothing."

"Couldn't find it."

"Nope. Ain't there."

They all turned and glared at Dr Harlech.

"All right, what are you playing at?" said Amber sharply.

"N-nothing," said Dr Harlech, wide-eyed with fright.

"You're keeping something from us," said Amber, fixing the scientist with an intimidating stare, which she'd spent several years practicing on the suspects she'd cross-examined during her time at the RPD.

"No! No, I'm not, I'm not hiding anything," said Dr Harlech, beginning to tremble.

"Then tell us why we can't find the labs belonging to the Hartleys, or Dr Morton, or Dr Goddard," said Amber.

"I - I - " stammered Dr Harlech.

"Would it, by any chance, have something to do with the L-Project laboratory on Level B5?" said Lisa, producing the memo she'd found in the Security office.

Dr Harlech nodded, and burst into tears.

"They're going to kill me now!" she whimpered. "They said we weren't allowed to tell anyone where we were working! They said if we did, then if we were very lucky, they might just fire us! But I know they'd kill anyone who let something slip! Look what happened to Ted when he screwed up! They killed him, and now they're going to get me too! I don't want to die!"

"Look, you're not going to die," said Amber. "Nothing bad will happen to you while you're with us. Unless, of course, you try and bullshit us again, in which case you'll be hearing it from the wrong end of an AK. Right, Renée?"

"If Dr Harlech tells a lie, then Mr Rifle is not her friend," agreed Renée, shifting her rifle slightly, an apparently innocent movement which not only made the assault rifle more comfortable to hold but was also calculated to give Dr Harlech a very clear view of the weapon.

Dr Harlech got the message.

"Fine," she said, taking off her glasses and wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her lab coat. "I'll take you to the elevator now."

As they'd previously noticed in the lobby below them, the Umbrella Corporation did not waste money on the fancy main elevators favoured by other companies. This elevator was a no-frills affair, clearly designed for the sole and express purpose of carrying people and objects from one floor to another.

With a loud sniff, Dr Harlech pressed the button that summoned the elevator. Whirring mechanical noises emanated from within, and the little lights above the doors indicated that the elevator was on its way up.

_Ping_!

The elevator doors slid smoothly open. Amber went in first, glancing briefly upwards to check that there was nothing horrible hanging from the ceiling. There wasn't. Much relieved to see that Lisa had been unjustified in calling it "the elevator of doom", she beckoned for Lisa and Jack to follow. They did so. Renée joined them, still watching Dr Harlech closely, in case the scientist closed the doors on them and made a run for it.

Dr Harlech was the last one to get in. She hesitated slightly, before pushing the button marked "B5".

The elevator doors slammed shut.

"_Warning,"_ announced a metallic voice. "_This level is a restricted area. Unauthorised personnel are not permitted to access this level. Please enter the password to continue._"

Dr Harlech looked at the elevator's other passengers, sighed heavily, and reluctantly typed in a series of numbers.

1221396518

"Password confirmed," said the voice. "_Accessing level B5."_

There was a faint clunk from somewhere above them, and the elevator slowly began to move. Shortly afterwards, however, the elevator stopped abruptly on the fifth floor.

"_Error,"_ announced the voice. "_Transit has been interrupted. For security reasons, level B5 can no longer be accessed."_

_Ping!_

The doors shot open to reveal Corporal Christina Ardizzone, looking very pleased with herself.

"Hello, stranger," said Renée with a grin.

"_Hola_, _Señorita_ Ardizzone. _¿Que pasa?_ Glad to see the giant frogs dint get you," said Jack.

"You look… happy," said Lisa politely.

"All right, you, stop smirking and get in," said Amber roughly, grabbing the mercenary by the arm and pulling her into the elevator. "Let's try again. Dr Hammond, the password, if you please."

"It's _Harlech_," muttered Dr Harlech, but she pressed the button anyway, and entered the ten digits again when prompted by the mechanical voice.

_"Password confirmed,_" said the voice. "_Accessing level B5."_

The doors slammed shut once more. With the sound still ringing in their ears, the elevator began to descend slowly into the bowels of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Inc., and into the very heart of darkness.


	33. Endless Night

****

33: Endless Night

The elevator sank slowly beneath the earth, passing down through level after level of the Umbrella building's concrete underbelly.

Christina's tale was short and uncomplicated. After being separated from Renée following a battle with some zombies, she'd decided to carry on up to the control tower alone, assuming - incorrectly, as it turned out - that Renée would meet her there.

She hadn't managed to contact Nicholai or any of the other UBCS team members, but despite this, she was very proud of herself. The reason for this was her chance discovery of the computer network control room. Using one of the computers, she had succeeded in hacking into Umbrella's mainframe and accessing the company's employee records database. From this, she'd found out where in the building Lisa's parents now worked… as well as a few other interesting details from another section of the database.

"Apparently I'm due for a bonus at the end of this mission," she said smugly. "Oh, and Lavelle, it said you're going to be promoted to Lance-Corporal. So you'll have to take orders from me for a little while longer."

"What?" Renée was momentarily speechless. "But - but Sarge said - "

"Sarge says a lot of things," said Christina. "Usually along the lines of "Come on, you useless scum, it's only a five-mile run". Don't believe everything you're told."

"I don't believe _this,_ that's for sure. How come _you _get to go straight from Private to Corporal?" said Renée sulkily.

"Because I'm me and you're you."

"That's not fair."

"Since when was it _meant _to be fair? Life isn't fair, Lavelle. Get used to it."

"It's all right for you, you stuck-up cow, _you're _Sarge's favourite recruit…" mumbled Renée.

Christina ignored her. Whether this was because she didn't hear what Renée said, or simply didn't care, was anybody's guess.

"So what brought you back here, anyway? Your sergeant is out there somewhere, shouldn't you be looking for him?" said Lisa worriedly. "Something terrible could happen to him."

"Not likely," said Renée. "He's a tough old goat. I'd like to see the creature that gets the better of Old Nick himself."

Christina smacked her in the back of the head.

"Show some respect for your superior officer," she said gruffly.

"Ow! You can't hit me! That's assault, that is," complained Renée.

"Shut up, you."

The elevator shuddered to a halt.

"_Welcome to Level B5,"_ said the robotic voice. "_Please wait while blast doors are deactivated_."

They heard a loud metallic grinding noise outside the elevator as the blast doors slid aside.

"_Blast doors deactivated_."

The elevator doors opened into total darkness. The passengers squinted into the cold, black space in front of them.

"Why is it so dark?" said Renée.

"Are we between floors?" said Lisa.

"This can't be right," said Amber, shaking her head.

"No, it's right," said Dr Harlech. "You first, Corporal."

"No," said Christina, after a carefully measured pause. "Actually, Dr Harlech, I think _you_ can go first."

"Scared, eh?" said Renée, smirking.

"Absolutely not," said Christina with iron-hard conviction. "I'm merely evaluating the situation. There could be any number of hazards in a low-light environment, and she's bound to know what they are. Therefore, she can go first. If anything bad happens, it'll happen to her, not us."

"Oh, great. Thanks," said Dr Harlech bitterly. "Thanks a lot. Nobody cares about the Umbrella scientist, so let's just use her as _bait_."

"Bait for what, exactly?" said Christina, as sweet as arsenic.

"For whatever's out there! I don't know! I have no idea what's out there," said Dr Harlech. "I mean, back when I worked here there _wasn't_ anything to be afraid of, except lab accidents or getting fired - "

"Or run over in the parking lot because you screwed up," supplied Lisa.

"Or run over in the parking lot because you screwed up," agreed Dr Harlech. "Back then there weren't any of these nasty man-eating frogs and giant moths and things. But now? Now there could be just about anything out there. Do you want me to get eaten?"

"Rather you than us," said Renée, with feeling.

"Go on, get moving," said Christina impatiently, and she shoved the scientist out of the elevator, into the darkness beyond.

Dr Harlech yelped.

"Don't make me go out there on my own!" she cried. "Please - I'm scared of the dark!"

Christina sighed, rolled her eyes, and pulled out her gun. She pointed it right at the trembling scientist's forehead.

"Compared to being shot in the head," she said, "I would say the dark holds no fears, don't you?"

"Hey, that's not fair," said Lisa indignantly. "Leave her alone, can't you see she's scared?"

"If I want an opinion, girl, _I'll_ provide one," said Christina. She returned her scowling face to Dr Harlech. "You. Walk. _Now_."

"No, please! Please don't make me go alone!" wailed Dr Harlech.

Amber felt a surge of anger. Much as she disliked Dr Harlech for her Umbrella connections, she didn't dislike the woman as a person, and she resented seeing _anybody_ being bullied by Christina - not even an Umbrella scientist deserved _that_, she decided.

She didn't like the dark either. There were probably spiders in there. _Huge_ spiders. But the cupboard incident had made her so ashamed of her own cowardice that she'd silently vowed never to run away from anything again; not if it meant leaving other people in the line of fire.

"Dr Harker? It's all right," she said. "I'll go with you. Christina, put that damn gun away before somebody gets hurt."

To everybody's surprise, not least Christina's, the gun was withdrawn. Amber stepped out of the elevator and put a reassuring arm around Dr Harlech's shaking shoulders.

"It's all right," she repeated. "I'll walk with you."

They started to walk. After a few seconds, the scientist's hand felt for hers in the gloom. Amber was surprised by the gesture, but she took Dr Harlech's hand anyway, and squeezed it gently. The other woman's hand was cold and slightly clammy with nervous sweat, but she didn't let go of it.

"Dr Hardy - ?"

She heard Dr Harlech sigh in the dark.

"Just call me Clarissa," she said eventually. "It's easier."

"Okay," said Amber. "Are you all right, Clarissa?"

"I'm all right. Thanks for asking."

There was a long, awkward pause in the conversation as they both tried to think of something to say, to keep the silence at bay. The air seemed heavy with words left unsaid.

"I'm sorry about your friend," blurted out Dr Harlech. "I just wish there was something I could have done to stop all this…"

"I don't think you could have done anything, Clarissa," said Amber, reluctant as she was to acknowledge the fact. "Not really."

"I should have paid more attention to what was going on around me. I should have known what we were doing," said Dr Harlech regretfully.

"But when you found out, you wanted to stop," said Amber. "You didn't want to be a part of it. I respect you for that, at least."

"I stayed, though," said Dr Harlech, with the same note of regret in her voice. "I shouldn't have stayed. I wish I'd let them kill me. Rather that than stay, like a _coward_, after what happened to Janice. I should have blown the whistle on them, even if they did kill me for it."

"You were afraid. I don't blame you for that," said Amber. "Nobody wants to die."

"I'm so sorry. I really am," mumbled Dr Harlech.

"I know. It's okay."

The atmosphere seemed to clear a little.

"Officer Bernstein - " began Dr Harlech.

"Amber," corrected Amber. "My name's Amber."

"Amber, we should call the others," said Dr Harlech. "It's hard to get lost down here, but all the same it's best if we stay close together."

"You're right," said Amber. "Hey, Jack, Lisa? You guys? Start walking, it's okay in here. Just dark, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"Roger that," called Renée. "Let's go, people."

"_I_ give the orders, Private," snapped Christina.

"Sorry," said Renée.

"Let's go, people," Christina ordered.

They filed out of the elevator, one by one. Jack was the last to go. He stepped out, and stumbled, suddenly dizzy; his vision started to blur and dissolve into greyness. Gasping for breath, he clutched the wall for support, and he closed his eyes.

"Jack? Are you all right?"

He looked up, and saw Lisa watching him with an air of grave concern. The dizzy spell, horrible though it was, had been mercifully brief - it was passing now, and all that remained of it was a mild headache.

"Yeah," said Jack. "Yeah, fine. I just get a little dizzy back there."

"Are you sure you're okay?" said Lisa.

"Yeah, I be fine. Dunt worry," said Jack.

Lisa looked doubtful. "If you're sure, then…" she said uncertainly.

They walked on.

"Hey, didn't I give you kids a torch back in the sewers?" said Renée, suddenly remembering their underground excursion in the sewers. "We could sure use that right now."

Jack and Lisa looked at each other.

"Lise?"

"Don't look at me. I gave it to you when you were trying to open the manhole."

"Dint I give it back?"

"No, you didn't."

"Oh. Dunt s'pose you remember what I do with it after that?"

"I think you must have left it in the sewers."

"Ah, hell…"

"That was my torch," said Renée reproachfully. "I really liked that torch."

"Sorry, Renée," said Jack humbly.

"Sorry is all very well, but that's going to have to come out of my pay," complained Renée. "Torches are standard-issue but the ones they hand out to us are lousy, they last two missions and then _kaput_. You want a decent torch, you have to buy one yourself. They don't come cheap, either…"

Christina gave a very loud sigh, indicating that what little patience she once had was being very rapidly spent.

"Here, use _mine_," she snapped.

The torch was thrown at lightning speed, and would probably have taken Renée's head off if her reflexes hadn't been so fast. She caught it neatly in one hand, flicking it on and throwing the torch beam ahead of her.

The group progressed along what was turning out to be a very long, dark corridor with several unexpected twists and turns. Dr Harlech led the group, still hanging onto Amber's hand for grim death, while Jack and Lisa followed behind, walking close together, and the mercenaries lingered towards the back.

"Whoa!" yelled Jack, as he felt something push past him.

"What is it?" said Lisa.

Thankfully, it was only Renée. Whistling a cheerful tune in a pitch that made the others wince, she cast the torchlight over the corridor in long, lazy swoops.

"Nothing here… nothing there… nothing, nothing anywhere," said Renée brightly. "Looks like this place is perfectly - mmmf!"

Lisa slapped a hand over the mercenary's mouth.

"_Don't say it_!" she hissed. "Don't say _anything_ that you'll end up regretting later when there are zombies bursting through every wall! Just keep your mouth shut! Got that?"

"Mm-mmff," said Renée, nodding vigorously.

"Good."

Lisa removed her hand. Renée blinked once or twice, and took a gulp of air.

"You could have just asked," she said, looking hurt.

"No time for pleasantries," said Christina brusquely. "We need to move on."

They moved on. Dr Harlech's face was aglow with torchlight, nervous sweat, and a smattering of hope.

"This place looks so different in the dark," she said. "But I think we're nearly there now."

"Good," said Jack fervently. "My feet hurt like hell."  
  
"We're here," said Dr Harlech, a moment later.

Sure enough, the torchlight now illuminated a pair of laboratory doors. Not surprisingly, the doors were not labelled "L-Project Laboratory" but were instead marked with a serial number, 7UC-1F-3R. There was a strange symbol stencilled in red on the wall, which Lisa and Jack didn't recognise.

"That's the biohazard symbol," said Renée helpfully. "We've seen that before."

"I bet you have," said Amber under her breath.  
  
"Anything be lurkin' in there, waitin' to bite our heads off?" said Jack.  
  
Dr Harlech peered in.

"It's quite dark in there, but - no, I don't see anything nasty," she reported.  
  
"In we go, then," said Christina. "Open the door."

Dr Harlech nodded, and pushed the doors hard. They didn't budge. She tried again, pushing a little harder, then with an almighty heave - but the doors still failed to open. An anxious look crossed the scientist's face.  
  
"Oh dear…" she said, raising her hand to her mouth. "I completely forgot about the key."  
  
"Key? What key?" said Christina sharply.

"I've got a lockpick," said Renée helpfully. "If you move over, I can - "  
  
"No, no, it's a _special _kind of key," said Dr Harlech fretfully. "And the only two people with keys to this laboratory were Liz Hartley and Janice, but nobody knows where they kept them."

There was a ringing silence among the group.

"Great," said Amber. "Just great. Wonderful. Fantastic. We can't get in. Now what?"

"There has to be another way in," said Christina.

"No, this was the only way in or out of the laboratory," said Dr Harlech, chewing nervously away at her left thumbnail; the other nails, Amber noticed, were already worn right down to the quick.

"You're wrong, you know," Christina informed the scientist. "There is another way in, as a matter of fact."

"Oh? And how do you know that?" said Dr Harlech, a touch defensively.

"Because a laboratory has to have ventilation of some sort, otherwise you would all have choked to death on fumes years ago," said Christina. "And if it's a big laboratory, you'll need a decent-sized ventilation system. There's bound to be some way of accessing the laboratory via the air ducts."

They contemplated this idea for a moment.  
  
"I hate to say it, but she's probably right," said Amber thoughtfully. "Let's have a look around, shall we?"

Several minutes of searching turned up an air vent. Set in the wall about a foot below the ceiling of the passageway and covered by a metal grille, it looked just about big enough to admit someone of average build.

"All right, someone give me a boost so I can get this grille off," said Christina.

Renée obediently stepped forward and knelt on the floor. Christina climbed onto her shoulders, and took the torch from Renée's hand on her way up.

"Ready?" said Renée.

Christina nodded.

"Okay. Going up," Renée announced, and she stood up a little unsteadily. "Hey, this reminds me of when I gave my cousin a piggy-back ride… except you're a lot heavier than he was."

"Of course I'm heavier than him, you imbecile. Your cousin is three years old," said Christina. "Now shut up and hold still."

The grille was at eye-level now, and Christina examined it with the aid of the torch's light. It was fairly cheap metal, held in place by four large screws, one at each corner. It looked easy enough to remove.

"Right, let's see…" she said to herself.

"How you gonna get the grille off, Christina?" said Jack, down below her. "Dunt you need a screwdriver or somethin'?"

"You'd be amazed at what you can do with a simple knife," said Christina, producing a survival knife from somewhere in the recesses of her uniform.

She set to work on the screws holding the grille in place, her tongue protruding very slightly as she stuck the tip of the knife blade into the screw. Metal squeaked against metal as the knife turned, and the screw with it.

"This is pretty uncomfortable," said Renée after a while.

"I know," said Christina. "I should be done soon."

However, the screws were surprisingly tight, and it was some time before the first screw popped out of the grille and landed on the damp concrete floor with a _ping_.

"Can't you work any faster?" grunted Renée, shifting position slightly. "My shoulders hurt."

"All right, all right," said Christina testily, wiping her forehead with the back of her free hand, and starting work on the next screw. "I'm working as fast as I can! Now shut up and let me concentrate!"

Dr Harlech could understand why the mercenary sounded so tense. The pressure of doing a fiddly task while being watched by others and being constantly told to hurry up was something that, as an Umbrella employee, she was only too familiar with. Like Amber, she disliked Christina intensely, but all the same she couldn't help feeling a brief pang of sympathy for her.

The second screw dropped onto the concrete and bounced away into a dark corner of the corridor.

"How much longer is this going to take?" said Renée, looking anxious. "Because I think I'm going to drop you soon…"

"You'd better not drop me," warned Christina, twiddling the knife hurriedly as she tried to work the next screw out faster. "Don't you dare drop me!"

"Hurry up then," said Renée, wincing. "You're heavy."

Christina was halfway through working out the third screw out of the grille when she felt her only means of support shift uncomfortably beneath her feet.

"Ow… I don't think I can hold you much longer," groaned Renée.

"If you drop me, soldier," hissed Christina, "I will _personally _make your life a living hell!"

"I thought you'd been doing that for months," said Renée, surprised.

"Oh, I haven't even _started_ yet!" Christina snarled, wrenching at the third screw - it shot out of the wall, rebounded off the opposite wall, and rolled across the floor into the shadows.

"Christina," whined Renée, "I really can't hold you up much longer!"

"Don't drop me!" ordered Christina. "I'm on the last screw!"

"I can't hold you up any more! I have to put you down!" said Renée.

"Don't you dare!" Christina yelled, twisting the knife frantically to try and get the last screw out.

"I'm going to drop you if I don't!" cried Renée.

"Hold on! Don't drop me!" shouted Christina.

"I'm going to drop you! I'm going to drop you!" said Renée, wobbling alarmingly as her knees started to give way beneath her superior's weight.

"No!" yelled Christina.

"I'm dropping you!"

"_No_!"

Renée staggered for a few seconds, trying desperately to stop herself from falling over, but in the end the weight was too much for her. She toppled over with a squeal of alarm, taking Christina with her.

Christina swore incomprehensibly and wrenched the survival knife away as she fell, incidentally dislodging the last screw holding the grille in place; already three-quarters unscrewed, it came out completely and the grille crashed to the floor.

At exactly the same time, Renée and Christina landed with a painful thud on the floor. The torch fell from Christina's hand and rolled across the concrete with a tinny little noise.

"Private Lavelle?" said Christina, her voice sharp and chilly with rage.

"Yeah?"

"Did I ever tell you that you're a cretin?"

"You called me an illiterate moron last week. And a "vile social degenerate". And this morning you called me a pathetic little bag of monkey droppings. And when Sarge wasn't looking during our mission debriefing a few days ago, you told me that you loathed me and everything about me, and that it was your sincerest hope that I die a horrible death involving wild horses and several lengths of chain. But I don't think you've ever called me a cretin."

"Hmm. All right then. Lavelle?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a cretin."

"Sorry. But at least the grille came off when you fell."

"This is true," said Christina, standing up. "Now, somebody needs to climb up there, crawl into the ventilation shaft and get into the lab."

"I'm not doing it," said Renée automatically. "I'm injured, right, doc?"

"It's not a good idea to crawl along on your stomach with those injuries," agreed Dr Harlech solemnly. "And I'd get up, if I were you. Lying on a cold damp floor on your stomach won't do you much good, either."

"How about you, doc?" said Renée, getting to her feet. "You know this place like the back of your hand, right?"

Dr Harlech looked startled.

"Me? Oh, no, not me. I wouldn't know where to go. I've never been into the air ducts. Good grief, I've got better things to do with my lunch break than crawl on all fours through the ventilation system. The company tends to take a rather dim view of that kind of thing, you know."

"Fair enough," said Renée. "What's your excuse, Amber?"

There was no reply; Amber was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, look. The coward ran away," said Christina scornfully. "Oh well, good riddance. She was useless anyway."

Lisa and Jack scowled. It was true that Amber often wasn't much good in an emergency, with her tendency to panic and run at the sight of monsters, but in spite of her faults there was something very likeable about Amber, and hearing her criticised by Christina made their blood boil.

"She ain't useless," said Jack sullenly. "She may be a 'fraidy-cat, but she save our asses at least twice this trip."

"Fine, fine. Have it your way," snapped Christina. "But it doesn't change the fact that she's not here to help us now. And we need someone in that air duct."

"How about _you_, Christina? I don't see you volunteering for all the dirty work," said Lisa.

"No, and do you know why?" said Christina, her eyes narrowing to chilly blue slits.

"No. Do tell," said Lisa sweetly.

"It's because I'm the one in command," said Christina. "That, for your information, means I give the orders, and other people carry them out. Other people, in this case, being _you_."

Lisa's mouth dropped open.

"_What_?" she said, appalled.

"We have a saying in the UBCS, Lisa," said Renée. "Never volunteer."

"I never volunteered for anything!" said Lisa indignantly.

"Ah, but you answered back to a superior officer," said Renée, shaking her head in mock resignation. "That's just as stupid as putting your hand up and yelling "Sir! Sir! Pick me to do whatever godawful task you have in mind!", and it usually amounts to the same thing anyway. The long and short of it is, you've just volunteered. Up you go."

"I won't go in there and you two can't make me," said Lisa stubbornly. "I'm a civilian. You can't order me to do anything."

"In that case we'll just turn around, go back upstairs, and leave town without Mommy and Daddy, shall we?" said Christina, smiling nastily.

"No!"

"Well, then. Get up there and get in that vent before I lose my temper."

Lisa glared at her, but shrugged off her backpack and dropped it next to Jack's feet. Jack looked at her; worry was written all over his face in huge bold letters, and the doubt in his eyes was underlining them at least twice.

"You sure you wanna do this, Lise?" he said, and the nervous tremor in his voice not only underlined the letters a third time, but put them in italics too.

"No," said Lisa. "But you're injured, Amber's not here, Renée can't and Christina and the good doctor won't, so I guess it's down to me."

"'kay," Jack said shakily. "You be careful in there, won't you, Lise?"

"I'll be careful," she promised.

"Here's the torch," said Renée, picking it up and handing it to Lisa. "Looks dark in there, so you'll need it."

"Thanks, Renée," said Lisa distractedly, and looked up at the dark opening high up in the wall. She couldn't reach it, of course. She'd need someone to help her up. Christina was not even to be thought of.

Jack's hurt his arm… Renée's injured too… ah…

"Dr Harlech?" said Lisa. "I can't get up there on my own. Can you give me a hand?"

"Sure," said Dr Harlech, grateful for the distraction; Amber's unexpected disappearance had unnerved her completely. She stepped forward into position, and allowed the younger girl to climb onto her shoulders.

"What do you see, Lisa?" she said.

Lisa peered into the opening that the grille had so recently covered. It was pitch dark inside the ventilation shaft, though the torch's beam chased some of the shadows away. She wished that it wasn't big enough for a slightly-built teenager to crawl comfortably through. However, wishing wouldn't make the air duct shrink; it looked like she'd have to go in, whether she liked it or not.

"Nothing. It's dark - really dark. Big enough for me to crawl through, unfortunately," Lisa reported. "I'm going in now."

She started climbing inside, pushing her upper body forward and pulling her legs up and into the shaft, and began to crawl.

----------

Elsewhere in the corridor, Amber was staring into the darkness. Her night vision was not good, but she could make out the outlines of the laboratory doors before her.

Her hand moved to the breast pocket of her bloodstained shirt, which held an item that she'd almost forgotten she had until now. She took it out, and turned it over, running her hands over it, looking with her fingers instead of her eyes in the absence of light.

She flicked it open with her thumbnail, and a small flame flared suddenly in the corridor's darkness.

Joseph's lighter. It had been a present from his father, a Vietnam veteran who'd carried it with him every day during the war; Joseph too had carried it every day until that terrible day in July, when he'd gone on that fateful mission and left it in the STARS office by mistake… and never came home to retrieve it.

The other STARS members had given it to Amber, on the grounds that Joseph would have wanted her to have it. It had remained in her pocket ever since, a near-constant reminder of the man she'd loved and lost.

It had been of considerable use to her in the past few days, and now it was serving a useful purpose again. She brought it closer to the door, searching for a keyhole, or at least some way of opening the door.

There was no keyhole. Instead, Amber's questing fingertips found a stone panel set just to one side of the door, with an indentation carved into it and some words engraved below the indentation on a small brass plate:

Of glass, of stone, pure, black, cold, or easily broken,  
Your centre is the key.

"What?" said Amber quietly to herself. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

She stared at the metal plate in utter incomprehension, her fingertips idly tracing the indentation.

Suddenly, it hit her. The outline she was tracing was heart-shaped…

Heart Of Glass. A heart of stone. Pure in heart. Black-hearted. Cold-hearted. Hearts can be easily broken. The centre of something is "the heart"… of course!

Amber started fumbling around her neck, and unclasped the heart necklace that she'd found in the flowerpot. The glass pendant gleamed darkly in the light. It looked about the right size for the indentation.

Perhaps this was the key? Oh well, there was only one way to find out…

----------

Lisa was beginning to feel acutely claustrophobic, but she didn't dare go back. She crawled forward on her stomach, knees and elbows, torch in one hand and her gun in the other, listening to the beating of her heart and the shuffling, whispering noises of her every movement and breath in the metal duct.

The entrance was some way behind her now, and getting smaller the further she went. She wanted to turn back, but knew she couldn't. She had to go on; it was that or leave her mother and father to die, if they weren't dead already…

"No," Lisa scolded herself. "Stop thinking like that. They have to be alive."

She crawled forward, banging her elbow on the side of the duct in the process.

"They'd _better_ be alive," she muttered.

There was a junction just ahead of her; she could either turn left, or keep going. Lisa decided to turn left - it looked like a dead end up ahead.

She shuffled around the corner, and was met with a gust of cold, stale-smelling air in the face. There was a faint whiff of chemicals too, and something else that she couldn't quite recognise.

"Chemicals? I must be getting close," said Lisa, then wondered why she was talking. After all, it wasn't as if there was anyone in here to listen to her. At least, she hoped there wasn't.

The passage seemed to get narrower and darker as she crawled along, until it felt like she was wearing the air duct, like a metal straitjacket.

Lisa paused briefly to calm herself and steady her nerves, gulping the musty air and willing her heart to slow its frantic pace. Until now, she'd never had the slightest tendency to claustrophobia - but until now, she reminded herself, she'd never been in a space this small and enclosed.

"You're okay. You can do this, Lisa," she told herself. "Just keep going."

Lisa started to crawl again, but a moment later she stopped dead and gagged as the smell hit her in the face. It was a rotten smell, like rancid meat, mouldy fruit and a long-dead animal all rolled into one, with a sharp tang of old, dried blood to finish the stench.

"Ugh! Oh, God, what is that?" she cried in disgust. The torch clattered on the bottom of the duct as she slapped a hand over her nose and mouth, and tried hard not to breathe.

There was something blocking the duct some way ahead of her; even with the torch, she couldn't quite make out what it was. In a way, she was thankful that she couldn't see what was blocking her way. Whatever it was, it smelled completely rotten. It was probably a dead animal of some kind, although she couldn't imagine how an animal that big managed to get into the air ducts unnoticed.

Eeew… but maybe I can get past it. Hopefully without touching it… ugh, that thing is so gross, whatever it is…

Lisa crawled closer, her fingers tightening around the torch as she neared the creature and fought the impulsive reaction to retch at the smell.

She couldn't really see what the dead creature was. From this distance she could see something black, slightly insectile in appearance, with suggestions of black hair or fur here and there. For some reason it put her in mind of a skinned gorilla, although she knew it couldn't be - gorillas definitely weren't indigenous to the American Midwest.

Lisa shook her head. She was so tired, her eyes were starting to play tricks on her. She thought she'd seen the thing twitch, but that wasn't possible. It was dead, wasn't it?

… wasn't it?

----------

Amber's hand trembled a little as she placed the dark glass heart in the indentation. As she'd anticipated, it was a perfect fit, but the doors resolutely failed to open.

Amber frowned, then tried to press the pendant further into the heart-shaped depression. It wouldn't go in any further.

"The joys of modern technology, my butt," she muttered, and gave the door a kick. She'd half-expected it to make the doors swing open in accordance with all the laws of drama. However, the doors had clearly never heard of dramatic tension, and stayed shut.

"Open, damn you," Amber hissed through her teeth, and pushed the doors hard, with no result.

Finally, she glowered at the immovable doors.

"Oh, up yours then," she snapped, and yanked the pendant roughly out of the indentation.

Just as she turned to go, something clicked deep inside the door mechanism. Amber was dimly aware that she seemed to have done something.

She tried the doors one last time, just in case. The door on the far side failed to budge even an inch, but the one next to the panel swung open as she pushed it.

It had barely had chance to start closing again before Amber rushed back down the dark corridor to find the others.

"Lisa, Jack! Dr Harlech! Renée! Christina! I opened the doors! Come on, quickly, let's go!" she called out.

The lighter's flame blew out as she ran, but Amber was too excited to care. She closed the lid and put the lighter back in her breast pocket, then paused briefly to put the necklace back on. She didn't understand why, but it held a dark fascination for her, and she wanted to keep it close and hidden from view.

Why? Amber wondered briefly. _It's just a necklace… pretty, in a weird sort of way, but it's just a necklace, after all. Probably not even valuable._

She hurried off again, and came back to find the other members of the group gathered near the opening of the air duct. The grille which once covered it now lay on the floor. For some reason, the others were looking up at it, as if they were waiting for something.

Jack and Dr Harlech turned to look at her as she approached them.

"Hey, Amber. Where you go?" said Jack.

"Never mind," said Amber. "I've found a way in. Come on, let's go. With any luck we can find Lisa's parents quickly and this nightmare will be over soon…"

But Jack and Dr Harlech seemed unwilling to come with her.

"What?" said Amber. "Why are you just standing here? And why are the mercs so interested in that air duct all of a sudden? And Lisa - hey, where's Lisa?"

Dr Harlech gulped nervously.

"Um… she's in the air ducts," she said, cringing a bit as she spoke.

"She's _what_?" exclaimed Amber.

"In the air ducts," said Dr Harlech again, rather more quietly. She appeared to regret having said anything.

"You mean to say you let her go in there _alone_? Are you _crazy_?" gasped Amber. "There could be anything in there with her right now! Absolutely anything! And she's only a kid! We have to get her out of there, right now!"

----------

The dead animal twitched again, more violently. Lisa backed away on her hands and knees, silently panicking.

Stupid, stupid… just because it's dead, that doesn't mean it'll stay dead! Zombies are dead too, and that doesn't slow them down! I should have turned back the minute I saw this thing… oh God, I have to get out of here! Right now!

Lisa didn't even bother waiting to see if the supposedly-dead animal twitched again before she tried to escape. She immediately starting crawling back down the air duct in reverse motion, as fast as she could go. All the time, she kept her eyes on the creature's twitching form. It seemed to be twitching a lot more now.

Any minute now, Lisa thought, _it's going to get up and chase after me._

With an inhuman shriek, the "dead" animal sprang up onto its feet. Somehow it sensed Lisa - good hearing, or perhaps it could smell her - and it skittered after her, its feet scrabbling on the metal beneath it.

Lisa gave an involuntary squeak of terror, and shone the torch in what was presumably the creature's face. It recoiled, chittering and temporarily blinded; seeing this as a chance to put some more distance between it and her, Lisa fired a few shots in the general direction of the creature, hoping at least one bullet would hit, then tried to crawl backwards even faster.

Oh, why did I have to be right? she thought desperately. _Just for once, it would be nice to be wrong about stuff like this!_

There was a clang as Lisa's feet hit something behind her, and she realised she was back at the junction. She turned around, and saw the duct entrance far ahead of her, a small, distant square of not-quite blackness in the blackness.

So… she was in a dark tunnel, and at the end of it was - well, there _would _have been a bright light, if they'd been able to find the light switch. It was one hell of a metaphor for existence.

Behind her was uncertain death. Ahead of her was uncertain life. Lisa knew which one she preferred, that was for sure.

With terror and the urge to live propelling her forward, Lisa headed towards the light. Only when she looked back, panting with the effort of crawling so fast, and saw that there was a gap between her and the horrible thing, did she open her mouth and scream for help with every breath in her lungs.

"Jack! Christina! Somebody, anybody! _Get me out of here!_"

----------

At the sound of the scream, Amber froze mid-rant, and saw the colour suddenly drain from Jack's face.

"Lise!" he yelled. "_Lise!_"

Dr Harlech started chewing her left thumbnail in double-time, looking more miserable than ever.

"I _knew_ this was a bad idea," the scientist moaned.

"Yeah," said Renée, scowling at Christina. "_Her_ bad idea."

Amber looked at Christina, whose face appeared to be stuck in transit from surprise to outrage.

"You made her go in there?" exclaimed Amber. "You - you _coward_! Making a kid go into a dark, creepy place instead of you! I may be a coward but even I'dnever stoop that low! How could you? That poor kid! You should be ashamed!"

For once, Christina appeared to be lost for words.

"I - " she began.

"Never mind you! Nobody give a damn 'bout you!" yelled Jack. "Lise be in trouble an' all you can do is blame somebody else? We gotta get her out! She could die in there!"

----------

Lisa could hear it moving behind her. It was catching her up, she knew. All the T-Virus monsters moved quickly. That was why there was nobody left alive in town but her, Jack, Amber, Dr Harlech and three mercenaries, and possibly her parents. And she wasn't too sure how long she could count herself as a survivor, either…

A clawed hand - or at least what probably passed for a hand, she didn't dare look closer - grabbed her by one leg.

Lisa screamed, struggled for a second or two, and finally managed to break free of its grasp. Something ripped in the darkness, and she didn't even want to speculate what. She started her high-speed crawl again, gasping for enough breath to fill her lungs, and wondering if her frenetic heartbeat could possibly kill her.

"_Lise_!"

Jack's face was just visible at the other end of the air duct; she'd never seen a more welcoming sight in her life.

"Jack!" Lisa cried. "Help me! Get me out of here, please!"

"Lise!" shouted Jack. "Oh, man… hang on, _chica_, I gonna come after you!"

"No, Jack, stay out of the air duct!" Lisa shouted back. "There's a monster in here, right behind me!"

"What?"

"You heard! Just get me out of here!" said Lisa, still clambering forward as fast as her hands and knees could carry her.

"I no can reach you! You be too far away, Lise!"

Lisa was almost out of breath, and couldn't reply. Instead she concentrated all her effort on getting to the end of the duct. Jack was there, reaching out his arm towards her, not quite close enough to touch.

Almost there now… almost there! Just a few more feet to go!

Straining every inch of her body, Lisa reached forward - and touched the fingertips of Jack's outstretched arm. She inched forward a little more and Jack grabbed her hand.

"Gotcha! Hold on Lise, I gonna pull you out," said Jack.

Lisa could hear noises behind her. That thing was getting closer…

"Hurry!" she urged him. "That thing'll be here any minute!"

Jack grabbed her other hand, and started to pull her out of the air duct. Lisa struggled forwards, trying to help him as much as possible without slowing down her progress out of the tunnel.

"Hold on! Dunt let go!" Jack shouted to someone below him.

Lisa let go of Jack's hands, threw her gun and torch out of the duct, and grabbed the edges of the opening, pulling herself forward. She stuck her head out of the duct's entrance, and Jack held her under the arms, hauling her out as fast as he could.

"Almost there!" he cried triumphantly.

Lisa was halfway out of the air duct when disaster struck.

"Oh no!" she cried. "Help, Jack, I'm stuck!"

"No way! You dint get stuck when you go in! You got plenty of room to spare in there! How come you be stuck now?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" Lisa screamed hysterically. "Just get me out! I can hear it coming!"

Jack's eyes widened with panic. Gripping her by the waist, he pulled harder.

"Ow, ow, ow!" yelled Lisa. "Ow, that hurts!"

"It gonna hurt a lot more when that creature get hold of you!" yelled Jack. "C'mon, Lise, you gotta get unstuck!"

Lisa wriggled as hard as she could, but somehow her hips had become wedged tightly in the duct.

"Help me!" she screamed.

Jack gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the raging pain in his injured arm as he tried to tug Lisa out. It felt like his arm was being doused in acid, then covered in oil and set ablaze.

Lisa struggled and struggled to extricate herself from the air duct, and struggled even harder when she heard the creature scurrying wildly somewhere behind her. It sounded as if it was almost on top of her now.

"Come on, Jack, you can do it!" shouted Amber from down below. "Lisa's almost out!"

"I'm not! I'm going to dieeeee…" wailed Lisa, kicking her legs back and forth inside the air duct.

"You be my best friend, Lise! I ain't gonna let you die! I gonna get you out of here if it _kill _me!" growled Jack, and pulled Lisa as hard as he could.

Lisa breathed in so hard she thought she'd explode, and, ignoring the protests from her muscles, twisted her lower body right round and - finally - came unstuck. At the same time, Jack pulled her so hard that he hauled the rest of Lisa out in one go, sending Lisa tumbling straight into Jack's arms.

The sudden movement sent them both tumbling from Dr Harlech's shoulders to the floor. Dr Harlech staggered, but just managed to retain her balance. She helped the two groaning teenagers to their feet.

"Well done, Jack, we're proud of you," she told him. "And you, Lisa. Are you all right?"

"Yes, but what about the monster?" said Lisa, looking fearfully up towards the air duct. Now the creature was close enough for them all to hear, skittering through the ventilation system and making noises that were bothering even the mercenaries.

"What is it?" said Renée, staring at the rectangle of darkness set high in the wall, and readying her assault rifle.

"I don't know," said Lisa, diving to retrieve her handgun and the torch from the floor, and point both at the air duct. "I couldn't really tell what it was, but it looked sort of like a… a skinned gorilla."

"A gorilla? Are you sure?" said Renée uncertainly. "We've faced snakes and spiders and zombies, dogs and crows, giant moths, things with long tongues, even a giant cockroach at one point - that was before you found us, of course," she added, seeing Jack and Lisa's horrified expressions. "But we haven't seen any gorilla-monsters. Doesn't sound even remotely like anything we've faced before."

"That's because I don't think it _is_ anything we've faced before," said Lisa.

Without warning, the creature's head emerged from the air duct with a horrible noise that made Dr Harlech squeal and dive for cover behind Amber.

"Sweet Jesus!" exclaimed Renée. "What _is_ that thing?"

A knife flew through the air and hit the creature right between the eyes so hard that it skewered the creature's skull in one go.

"Ugh, _gross_," said Renée, and she and Lisa averted their eyes. Jack had already closed his protectively. Amber was too busy trying to stop Dr Harlech from crawling up her back in sheer mindless terror to watch the creature dribbling blood down the side of the wall, before it fell out of the air duct and collapsed in a heap on the floor, dead.

When they were sure it was safe to look again, their heads swivelled and they took in Christina, who smiled grimly.

"Like I said. It's amazing what you can do with a simple knife," she said, and looked at the creature's corpse with something like pride.

"You're weird, you know that," said Renée. "But at least you know what that thing is."

"Mm-hmm," said Christina.

"What is it?" said Lisa.

"Dead," said Christina, and she yanked the knife out of the creature's head in one smooth movement. The others watched in horrified fascination as blood ran in little streams across the floor.

"Well then," said Christina, "I don't know what our options are now. I'm no clairvoyant but I get the distinct impression that I'll be lynch-mobbed by the lot of you if I even dare suggest sending Lisa back in there."

"Too right you will be," said Amber, hugging Lisa protectively. "You almost got the poor kid killed."

"Who's Claire Voyant?" said Renée, looking puzzled.

"So now what are we supposed to do, may I ask?" said Christina, glaring at Dr Harlech. "I'm sure you have plenty of good ideas, Dr Harlech, considering this is where _you_ work. How, when you refuse to send anyone back into the air ducts, are we supposed to access the laboratory?"

"We're not stopping you from going," said Lisa. "If you think you can do better than me, you're welcome to try."

"You know, I think I will," said Christina. "Someone help me up."

Nobody volunteered.

"Well, come on then," said Christina impatiently.

"Get up there yourself," said Amber, with a shrug.

"And would you mind telling me how on earth I'm supposed to do that?" said Christina.

"Well, you said it yourself," said Amber mildly. "It's amazing what you can do with a simple knife. Figure it out on your own."

Christina gave her a look of pure hatred, before ramming her survival knife into a crack in the wall, at around knee-height. After ensuring that it was stuck fast and wouldn't fall out of the wall, she climbed up onto it. The knife gave her the boost she needed, and she clambered up into the air duct.

"See you later, then," called Amber.

"What are _you_ going to do, flatfoot?" said Christina, her voice muffled.

"We're going to try and get in some other way. We'll meet you there," said Amber.

Christina didn't reply. Instead they heard her start to crawl, a noise which gradually faded into the distance.

When Amber decided that Christina was safely out of earshot, she turned to the others and said:

"Do you think maybe I should have told her about the doors?"

"No, we should just leave her to - hey, wait a minute, what doors?" said Lisa abruptly. "You mean the main doors?"

"The ones we no could open?" said Jack, scratching his head.

"The very same," said Amber proudly.

"But - but how you do that?" said Jack blankly. "No keyhole, no key, no lock to pick, no password, no nothin'… so how the hell you get that door open?"

"Well, the key was the _heart_ of the problem," said Amber, smiling inwardly at her own joke. "You see, there was a stone panel to the left of the door, with an indentation shaped like a heart. And funnily enough, I happened to have in my possession something which fitted the indentation perfectly."

"What? You mean you found the key?" said Dr Harlech, stunned. "Where did you get that? Let me see it!"

Alarmed by the prospect of handing over the necklace, though she still didn't know why, Amber shrank away from the scientist, clutching the pendant protectively.

"Please," said Dr Harlech, sounding calmer now. "I just want to see it. You can have it back afterwards."

"Well… okay," said Amber reluctantly, unclasping the necklace and dropping it into Dr Harlech's hand.

The scientist nodded, and held it closer to Lisa's torch so she could get a better look at it. When she saw it, she gasped out loud.

"Amber, where did you find this?" she said.

"Hidden in a rubber plant pot upstairs somewhere near the Bacteriological Research department," said Amber. "Why?"

"There are only two keys to the laboratory," said Dr Harlech. "One of them was given to Dr Janice Redmond, and the other one, this one, belonged to - "

"Mom," murmured Lisa. "You mean this is my mom's key? But then… what was it doing hidden in a plant all the way back upstairs?"

Dr Harlech shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "Let's hope we can find her, and find out."

"Can I have the, uh, key back now, Clarissa?" said Amber anxiously.

"Please," said Dr Harlech, returning the necklace. "Take it. But whatever you do, don't lose it," she warned. "And for God's sake, don't drop it, because it'll smash and then we're done for."

"Why, is it valuable?" said Amber, putting the necklace back on and tucking it inside her shirt.

"You have no idea how much that thing is worth to the right collector," said Dr Harlech darkly. "But never mind. Let's go and find your parents, Lisa."

Lisa nodded.

"Do you think I should go after Christina?" said Renée, glancing up at the air duct. "There might be more of those things in there."

The others stared at her as if she'd gone mad.

"You're right," said Renée, nodding. "She can manage. And if she can't… well, too bad for her. I'm not risking my ass on her behalf."

"I thought you didn't leave fallen comrades behind in the UBCS?" said Lisa.

"Yeah, well, she wasn't exactly in a hurry to rescue me from the car when those crows attacked us," said Renée. "And they probably didn't have someone like Christina in mind when they came up with the whole "nobody gets left behind" thing. I bet they'd have changed their minds if they thought there'd be someone like her in our ranks."

"That's settled, then. She can fend for herself," said Amber brightly. "Okay, our work is done here, now let's move on. Lisa, are you sure you're all right? You're not hurt, are you?"

Lisa looked down at the leg that the creature had grabbed back in the air duct. Her jeans had torn, but otherwise she was unharmed.

"No, I'm fine," she said, smiling bravely.

"That's good," said Amber. "Everyone else okay?"

There was an unanimous chorus of "Yes".

"Good. Let's go."

The group's mood brightened considerably as they arrived outside the laboratory. But even as Amber pushed open the door and the group filed into the L-Project lab one by one, Jack realised that he'd lied to the others. He knew, deep down, that he was anything but okay.

His head ached. He felt sick, dizzy and hot all over. He didn't think he could take it any more. This was intolerable… no, he couldn't stand it any longer.

Jack finally gave in to temptation. His hand moved to his injured, unbearably _itchy_ arm, and he started to scratch…


	34. Identity Crisis

****

34: Identity Crisis

The torch beam cut through the swathes of darkness that enveloped the room.

"No need for that, Lisa, the light switches are right here," said Dr Harlech, flipping a series of switches by the door.

One light went on. Another light went on for two seconds, before fading inexplicably into darkness again. A third turned on and flickered erratically. A fourth didn't turn on at all, and a fifth exploded in a shower of glass.

"Oh. Well, we've got _some_ light, anyway," said Dr Harlech, recovering from the shock. "Don't know what happened to the lights. They always worked perfectly before."

They were standing in a shadowy room lined with lockers on one side and coat pegs on the other. Hanging on several of the coat pegs were lab coats in varying stages of cleanliness, ranging from "sparkling clean" to "possibly contagious".

"Hey, this is just a locker room," said Renée, sounding disappointed. "Where's the lab?"

"Which one?" said Dr Harlech.

"You mean there's more than one?" said Renée, surprised.

"Well, we've got two main laboratory areas on this level, and then downstairs there are a few smaller labs belonging to the leading researchers," explained Dr Harlech. "Plus storerooms, offices, and so on. Now that I think about it, the word "laboratory" is a bit misleading. It's more like a small research facility."

"Now she tells us," Renée grumbled. "Okay, so where now?"

"We're going to search this whole place from top to bottom," said Lisa. "We're going to find my mom and dad, and when we find them, we're going to get the hell out of here."

"And we're going to get to the bottom of the L-Project, too," said Amber. "If it's part of Umbrella's bioweapons programme, then we have to put a stop to it. This can't be allowed to happen again. Renée, Clarissa, are you with us?"

"Damn right," said Renée instantly. "I don't care if Umbrella does pay my wages, their experiments have screwed up big-time, and I'm fed up of being attacked by the results. They don't pay me nearly enough for this… and now they won't even promote me to Corporal? The hell with that. This company's going down."

"Good for you, soldier. Clarissa, what about you?" said Amber.

"Yes, I'm with you," said Dr Harlech. "Umbrella have already done far too much damage - and I helped them! I _helped _them do this!"

Amber saw her unlikely ally's blue-grey eyes start to fill with tears again, and she wondered what it was like to have the deaths of innocent people on your conscience.

How must it feel to realise that simply carrying equipment back and forth in a lab all day had helped to kill thousands of people, and you had no idea you were doing anything wrong until it was too late?

She could only imagine the woman's guilt, her grief, her horror and dismay at having unwittingly aided and abetted the forces of evil. She could certainly understand the tears of shame and anger in her eyes.

"Because of this company, I've got blood on my hands which I can _never _wash off," said Dr Harlech, wiping her eyes on her coat sleeve. "I have to stop them now, or I'll never forgive myself for what I helped them to do."

Amber put a hand on Dr Harlech's shoulder.

"Come on, Clarissa," she said. "Let's get out there and make those bastards pay."

"Get out where? Where we goin'?" said Jack.

"Let's start next door, in Research Lab #1," said Dr Harlech, with a newfound gleam of purpose in her eyes. "That's as good a place as any."

----------

Research Lab #1 was exactly what they'd expected - a vast laboratory of about the same length and breadth as Raccoon City High's basketball court. Computers and paperwork competed with glassware and complex scientific equipment for desk space, although occasional parts of the laboratory were oases of perfect order, with every item laid out neatly and arranged with near-surgical precision.

The blue flame of a lit Bunsen burner from an unknown experiment glowed eerily in the dark until Dr Harlech hit the light switches. This time her luck was better, and only one of the lights failed to turn on. None of them exploded.

Someone was standing still in the middle of the room. The person's back was turned to them, but Lisa noted the lab coat and the short dark hair with growing apprehension. The back of that head looked familiar…

"Dad?" she ventured.

Slowly, like the shifting of continents, the man began to turn around. The groan that emanated from him chilled Lisa's blood.

"Dad…?" she said faintly. "Is that you?"

"Uhhhhh…"

The man was now facing them, but Lisa wished he'd kept his back turned. The bluish-white face was dripping with blood. The one small relief was that the man's face was not her father's, but that of a slightly younger man with a beard and moustache.

"Heads up, we got another zombie," called Jack.

"Headshot should take him out," said Amber, taking aim. "Hit him in the right place, and you'll only need one bullet to kill him."

"Where do you need to shoot, then?" said Dr Harlech.

"Right between the eyes," said Amber, and she fired once. The zombie toppled backwards with a groan, with a neat bullet hole in the exact centre of the forehead.

Under her breath, Amber began slowly counting to thirty.

When, after thirty seconds, the zombie hadn't risen again, Amber risked a closer look. The zombie was very definitely dead; blood was spilling out of the bullet wound in its forehead and forming a puddle on the floor beneath its body.

"It's dead," Amber called out.

"Are you sure?" Dr Harlech called back.

"Very sure," replied Amber. "I learned a few things while I was trapped in the police station, and one of the things I learned was that there are only three ways to kill a zombie - burn it, decapitate it, or blow its brains out. Anything other than that, and it'll come back to life again later, no matter how dead you think it looks."

"Right," said Dr Harlech, looking shaken. "Uh, thanks."

"Was that your dad, Lisa?" asked Renée.

"No, it wasn't," said Lisa. "He's got the same haircut, but that wasn't him."

"That's good," said Renée. "Where there's life there's hope, eh?"

Lisa nodded, but said nothing. The man that Amber had just shot had once been a scientist. Scientists, generally speaking, were intelligent people, as Jack had told her. But intelligence hadn't saved this man from the T-Virus. Had her mother and father fared any better?

"Okay, this guy was Dr Anthony Hodgman, according to his identity card," announced Amber, as she examined the corpse. "Clarissa, do you know him?"

"He's one of the L-Project researchers," said Dr Harlech. "He works - _worked_ - in Research Lab #2, and he's got an office somewhere. I don't know him, though. The lab assistants didn't talk to the researchers much."

"Do you know what he did here?" said Amber.

"No," said Dr Harlech, frowning. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm trying to decide whether I should kick his head off or not," said Amber.

"Well, I didn't notice him dragging screaming colleagues away for torture, or cackling as he ran people over in the parking lot," said Dr Harlech, shrugging. "As far as I could tell, he was pretty normal."

"Nobody who works for Umbrella is normal, Dr H," said Renée. "Take it from me. You're talking about a company that employs _Christina_, for crying out loud."

In the background, Amber started kicking the late Dr Hodgman repeatedly in the head, as hard as she could. Twelve kicks later, the man's head bounced across the floor.

"What was that for?" said Dr Harlech, aghast.

"General principles," said Amber, scowling down at the headless corpse of the researcher.

"Okay, everyone," she said, looking up again. "Lisa's parents obviously aren't in this room. Clarissa, Renée, you two take Lisa into Research Lab #2 to look for her mom and dad. Jack and I are going to stay here and take a little look around."

"Okay," said Dr Harlech. "They're going to kill me when they find out I've let you snoop around in here, but they're probably going to kill me anyway, so you might as well go ahead and look around. Meet us next door when you're done."

The RPD police officer and the Umbrella scientist exchanged nods of agreement, and parted company, the scientist leaving the room with a worried teenager and a bemused mercenary in tow.

When they were sure that they had the laboratory to themselves, Jack and Amber went to opposite ends of the room and began their search.

"What we be lookin' for, anyway?" said Jack after a while.

"Anything incriminating," said Amber, rooting through a stack of paperwork on somebody's desk. "Documents, photographs, test-tubes labelled "Deadly Zombie Virus Sample #12", that kind of thing."

"Oh. 'kay. You mean like this?"

Amber turned around. Jack was holding up a framed photograph which, judging by the large rectangular gap in the wallpaper of motivational posters, official notices, Umbrella advertisements and neon-coloured Post-It notes, had fallen off the wall at some point and never been put back up.

"What is it?" she called.

"A photo of a bunch of scientists. It say "L-Project Research Team, March 1998"," said Jack.

"Good work, Jack," said Amber. "That's great. Probably the most incriminating thing in here, mind. I think they've either destroyed the important paperwork or got it locked away somewhere safe. All I've found so far are expenses reports, a failed request for sick leave, two reports containing absolutely nothing suspicious, and a lingerie catalogue. Let's have a look at this photo, then."

Jack handed over the photograph. Amber stared at it for a moment, then brought it down sharply on the edge of a desk. Glass splintered, and part of the wooden frame broke off.

Amber pulled the rest of the frame apart, cut out the back of the frame with a fragment of glass, and carefully removed the photograph.

"What you do that for?" said Jack, puzzled.

"I couldn't carry it around like that, could I?" said Amber. "I think there might be names on the back of this photograph, too."

She turned the photograph over, and saw a list of names written neatly in pencil on the back.

"Yes… here we are," she said. "Any of these look familiar to you, Jack?"

Jack went through the list, lips moving silently as he read the names. They were:

Back row (l to r): Dr Margaret Dayton; Dr Dean Forrester; Dr Anthony Hodgman; Dr Theresa Goddard; Dr Belinda Patrick; Dr Stuart James; Dr Adrian Hewlett

Front row (l to r): Dr Archibald Fisher, Chief Researcher; Dr Alistair Morton; Dr Wilfred Hazlitt, Facility Director; Drs Jonathan and Elizabeth Hartley; Dr Linda J Lampeter, Head of Research; Dr Janice Redmond

He turned the photograph back again, matching the names to the bright, smiling faces.

Dr Margaret Dayton was an attractive older woman with dark bobbed hair; her neighbour, Dr Dean Forrester, was the complete opposite - young and blond, with his broad shoulders and muscular build suggesting "former high school quarterback". Third from the left was their old friend Dr Hodgman, looking far more healthy than when they'd last seen him.

Dr Harlech's mentor, Dr Theresa Goddard, turned out to be a severe-looking blonde woman, and the only member of the group who wasn't smiling. That told Jack pretty much all he needed to know about the woman. He silently pitied Dr Harlech for having to work with her.

The other three people looked like they were barely out of high school: Dr Belinda Patrick, a slight, pretty brunette with a bright smile; Dr Stuart James, a studious-looking young man with dark hair and brooding eyes; and at the end of the row was the most youthful of all, Dr Adrian Hewlett - a tall, skinny youth with unruly brown hair, a troubled complexion and a shy, hesitant smile.

In the front row was Dr Archibald Fisher, who was mostly bald and squinting slightly through half-moon spectacles as he smiled feebly for the camera. Next to him was the infamous Dr Wilfred Hazlitt, Director of Umbrella HQ - he was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, designer glasses, and the confident smile of a shark who'd just spotted a helpless swimmer floundering a few feet away. Stuck between them and not looking terribly enthusiastic about it was Dr Alistair Morton, Lisa's father's co-worker, who looked like Humphrey Bogart in a lab coat.

In the middle of the front row were Lisa's parents, standing next to a familiar-looking blonde woman with glasses, and right at the end of the row was Dr Janice Redmond, a pretty woman with flame-red hair and a wicked grin.

Wait a minute…

The person to Dr Redmond's left was, according to the list of names, Dr Linda J. Lampeter. But when Amber looked again…

She gripped the photograph tightly.

"Lying bitch," she hissed.

"What?" said Jack.

Amber thrust the photograph in front of his face with a snarl. Jack stared at it in incomprehension.

"What?" he said again. "What be up with you?"

"Look at the woman in the front row, second from the right," growled Amber. "She remind you of anyone?"

Jack looked at the blonde woman with glasses, standing next to Dr Redmond.

"Hey, she kinda looks like… what the hell? What _she_ be doin' there?"

"That's what _I_ want to know," said Amber. "Let's go and find out, shall we?"

Without waiting for an answer, she dragged Jack out of the laboratory by his good arm, while Jack gawped at the photograph in Amber's hand in disbelief. Staring out of it, with a sweet smile on her lips, was the face of Dr Clarissa Harlech.

----------

Dr Harlech was halfway across Research Lab #2 when she heard the scream.

"_Yeeeaaaargh_!"

Before she knew what was going on, someone had leapt onto her back and brought her crashing face-down onto the floor. She let out a shriek of pain as she felt someone grab her hair and yank it sharply.

"All right, you lying bitch, _talk_!" she heard Amber hiss.

"_Amber_? Wh-what's going on?" said Dr Harlech, frightened and bewildered.

"Oh, no, I'm not falling for the innocent routine again," snarled Amber. "Not this time. Now talk!"

"What? What are you _talking_ about?" cried Dr Harlech.

She screamed as Amber grabbed her hair and slammed her face into the floor.

"You and I both know perfectly well you're not Dr Harlech, don't we, _Linda_?" said Amber.

"_What_?" shrieked Dr Harlech, but this earned her another facial collision with the floor.

"Amber, stop it! Leave her alone!" cried Lisa, trying unsuccessfully to pull Amber off Dr Harlech.

"Amber, what the _hell_ are you doing?" yelled Renée, from across the room.

"Beating the living snot out of this lying bitch who's been pretending to be Dr Harlech!" Amber yelled back. "She's been lying to us the whole time! This isn't Clarissa Harlech! This is Linda J. Lampeter, the scumbag Head of Research, and she's in this up to her _neck_!"

The aforementioned neck (plus its associated head) was slammed into the floor once again, and Dr Harlech howled in agony.

"_I don't know what the hell you're talking about!_" she bawled. "_I'm Clarissa Harlech! That's who I am! Me! Myself! Clarissaaaaaargh!"_

"Goddamn it, Amber, let her _go_!" shouted Renée.

Amber released the sobbing scientist, and held out the photograph. The mercenary snatched it roughly, and looked at it.

"Look! In the front row, right next to Janice Redmond!" yelled Amber. "She's there, look! Smiling like the world belongs to her! All this time, she's been playing us for fools! I _knew _you could never trust an Umbrella scientist!"

Renée and Lisa stared at the photograph.

"That _does_ look like her, doesn't it?" said Lisa, astonished at the resemblance.

"Yeah," said Renée. "But that's not her."

"What?" screeched Amber. "Of course it's her! What are you talking about?"

"How do you know, Renée?" said Lisa. "They look like the same woman to me."

"Lisa, there's a picture on that desk," said Renée evenly. "Go and get it, will you?"

Baffled by the request, Lisa nevertheless went over to the desk Renée had been standing at, and picked up a photograph lying face-down on a pile of papers. She brought it over to Renée.

"Introducing Dr Clarissa S. Harlech and family," said Renée, holding up the photograph triumphantly.

The others craned to look. Sure enough, it was a family picture; a middle-aged man and woman smiling for the camera, a much younger Clarissa Harlech… and another Clarissa Harlech, in a different outfit.

"Oh," said Lisa, as understanding dawned.

"Hey, that be one hell of a family resemblance," remarked Jack. "Look, Clarissa an' her _hermana _look just like twins."

"That's because we _are_ twins," said Dr Harlech's muffled voice from the floor. "Linda got married a couple of years ago, to a guy in the warehouse business. His name's Peter. Peter Lampeter."

All eyes turned to Amber. Amber's mouth became an O of horror, and her face flushed red.

"Oh my God," she said, appalled. "Oh, God… Clarissa, I'm so sorry… I thought…"

"Yes, I know what you _thought_," said Dr Harlech, getting to her feet and gingerly feeling her face. "It's what everyone thinks. Shame they don't think before opening their stupid mouths, or launching themselves at me and beating the living daylights out of me."

"I'm sorry," said Amber in a small voice.

"Yes, well - you know what? I helped Umbrella make bioweapons with my ignorance, and you smashed my face into the floor because of _your_ ignorance. Given the circumstances, I think we can probably call it even," said Dr Harlech, rubbing her bruised nose.

"Okay," said Amber. "Sorry, Clarissa."

"Forget it," said Dr Harlech, waving aside the apology. "I probably deserved it anyway. Just give me an advance warning next time you try to kill me, please, and I'll try and find some sort of protective clothing."

She smiled faintly. "Until then, I suppose we might as well be friends again. It's either that, or I'll end up needing reconstructive surgery. And since I'm only prepared to lose face in the strictly metaphorical sense, I think we're better off being nice to each other, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Amber. "Friends? Well, sort of?"

"Friends," agreed Dr Harlech. "Sort of."

The two women shook hands, and Renée shook her head.

"You're both mad," she said. "Both of you. Completely gaga. Are you sure you two aren't mercenaries in disguise? You're certainly crazy enough."

"I may be crazy, but I'm not that crazy," said Amber darkly. "No offence," she added, seeing Renée's expression.

"None taken," said Renée good-naturedly. "Though Christina might beg to differ."

"Well, Christina can kiss my - aaaargh!"

Dr Harlech, paranoid as only a terrorised Umbrella employee could be, had brought her foot down heavily on Amber's.

"Christina can kiss your aaaargh?" said Renée, frowning.

"My _foot_!" cried Amber, hopping up and down.

"Your foot? Well, I don't know what she'd want to kiss that for, but never mind," said Renée, with a shrug.

"No! Clarissa _stepped _on my _foot_!" cried Amber.

"In case you'd forgotten, Christina's up there in the air ducts right now," hissed Dr Harlech. "She's probably listening to every word you say and noting it for future reference so she'll have an excuse to kill you! And from what I've seen of her, I don't think she needs _much _of an excuse to kill you! In case you hadn't noticed, Amber, she _hates_ you!"

"The feeling's mutual, believe me," muttered Amber. "Stupid, arrogant, vicious c-ow! That hurt!"

While this exchange was going on, Jack and Lisa had drifted away and started to search the room for evidence. It was clear that Lisa's parents were as absent from this room as they had been from Research Lab #1, but they were determined to find _something _here.

Lisa and Jack searched each stack of papers with care and an attention to detail that might have impressed even Christina, though it was doubtful whether anything would have truly impressed Christina. In the background, Amber yelped as her feet got trodden on again.

"There must be _something_ here," said Lisa, exasperated by the lack of any documents bearing the words "Classified: Our Master Plan For World Domination", though doubtless some of the complicated documents might have provided one or two hints - if the reader happened to be a scientific genius of Einsteinian proportions.

And then Lisa came across a document that made her jaw drop.

****

CLASSIFIED MATERIAL - PROPERTY OF LABORATORY NO. 7UC-1F-3R (LEVEL B5)

The contents of this fax are classified and intended for the named addressee only. Any duplication or disclosure of the contents to a third party is strictly prohibited by the sender and by the Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Incorporated security guidelines (Section 5b, page 12, paragraph (iv))

****

This fax must be destroyed immediately after use, by order of the sender.

From: Dr Annette Birkin, G-Project Laboratory Manager  
FAO Dr Jonathan Hartley  
Re: Virus Samples

Dear Jonathan,

Many thanks for your continued support of my husband's research. I know that you and William were friends during your time at the Umbrella Management Training Facility, and we both greatly appreciate your interest in William's work.

As you are probably aware, my husband is very protective of his research. Very few people are aware of the G-Virus Project's existence, even among our own laboratory staff. However, William has always regarded you as a close friend and was insistent that you be privy to the details of his research.

I'm sure you will be pleased to hear that the G-Virus is rapidly nearing completion, with only a few minor adjustments still to be made. The virus' regenerative abilities are quite astonishing, although at the time of writing it works only erratically, with the regrettable side-effect of some loss of intelligence in the test subject. William is optimistic, however, and is convinced that these drawbacks can easily be overcome with some slight modifications in the molecular structure of the virus.

My husband was very excited to hear about the development of the L-Virus, and he has asked me to congratulate you on the success of your research. He sends his warmest regards to you and Elizabeth, and regrets the fact that his own project is taking up so much of his time; were it not for the importance of his research and its rapid completion, he would be only too eager to visit the L-Project laboratory and see your work for himself.

As a token of our goodwill, we have sent three samples of the G-Virus in its early stages of development for you to study, in the hope that they might somehow aid you in your research. We regret that these are not as up-to-date as we would have liked, but unfortunately there are many enemies of ours in the company who would like nothing better than to acquire samples of the G-Virus and use them for their own ends.

William and I request that you take the greatest possible care of these samples. On no account must anyone else know of their existence, let alone their presence in your laboratory. When you have finished with the virus samples, we would be obliged if you could return them to us so that they may be properly disposed of. Failing that, please dispose of them yourself in accordance with the company's Hazardous Materials Disposal Guidelines, and provide us with written and photographic proof of the samples' destruction.

We wish you both the very best of luck in your research.

Yours sincerely,  
Annette Birkin

"What are you reading, Lisa?"

The heels of Amber's boots clicked on the floor as she crossed the room. She snatched the paper from Lisa's hand and scanned it quickly, her eyes flicking from line to line, down and then further down the page.

"Good God," she breathed at last. "So it really does exist…"

"What?" said Lisa. "What is it?"

"The G-Virus," said Amber. Her eyes were flashing with excitement. "Chris said it existed, but he could never find any proof! Even the FBI couldn't find a trace of evidence to support the rumour! But this - oh, this is perfect. This is Umbrella's big project - this is what we've been looking for! Oh, just wait till I get this to Chris! Maybe we can really get somewhere this time!"

She folded the document up and put it in her pocket, along with the other evidence she'd been collecting on her travels through the Umbrella building.

"Now where, Clarissa?" she said.

Dr Harlech took down a map that had been pinned to the laboratory wall. Showing it to Amber and beginning to trace a possible route with her finger, she said:

"Well if we go out through this door and down the corridor, there's a flight of stairs leading down to the next level. If we go down the stairs, we'll come to some smaller labs which belong to the researchers. Perhaps we'll have better luck there."

Amber nodded.

"Okay. Good plan. Let's do it."

"Yep," said Renée cheerfully.

Through the haze of another oncoming headache, Jack watched the others leave. He'd hoped that his symptoms could have been easily explained by lack of food and sleep, and a bandage that chafed against his skin. But no, they couldn't be explained away any more.

His head was a throbbing mass of excruciating pain, though that was nothing compared to what was happening to his arm. Swollen, insufferably itchy, still oozing and, on closer examination, now covered in purplish bruises, his arm hurt so much that Jack half-hoped that amputation would be an option available in the near future.

His blood felt like it was boiling in his veins, but his skin felt cold and clammy to the touch. The dizziness was coming back, too. 

_Oh no…  
  
_Jack staggered, and leaned against a desk, fighting to get his breath back. He hoped fervently that none of the others had seen him like this; he knew that Lisa was already concerned about his health. He remembered that worried look she'd given him, back outside in the corridor leading to the laboratory entrance.

Beautiful Lisa, with her long, pretty hair and kind eyes, her gentle smile and kissable lips. He'd nearly kissed those lips once. What he wouldn't give to kiss Lisa - to feel her lips pressed against his, to taste the sweetness of that kiss, to sink his teeth into her face and enjoy the taste of her blood… 

"No!"

Jack clenched his teeth until he thought they'd crack, and felt the terrible hunger and the thirst for blood subside. But he knew deep down that it would soon be back.

Now he knew for sure what was wrong with him. He'd been infected when that giant zombie's tentacle cut open his arm. Now he was going to die and come back as a zombie, and there was nothing he could do about it.

_Except…_

There were only three ways to kill a zombie, Amber had said. Burn it, decapitate it, or blow its brains out.

Well, there was no cure for the T-Virus. And he was going to die anyway…

Jack's hand trembled as he raised his gun to his head and pressed it to his temple. It hurt to think that this, the feel of cold metal pressing firmly against his skin, would be the last sensation he'd ever experience, and that he would never see Lisa again.

Struggling against the pain in his arm, he took a picture out of his shirt's breast pocket. It was a Polaroid photograph, identical to the one that Lisa had kept hidden behind the mirror of her dressing-table.

"Adios, Lise," he murmured, curling his finger around the trigger.

One last memory of Lisa passed through his mind.

_"… if you don't make it out alive, then I won't either…"  
_  
And Jack hesitated.

_"We leave together, or not at all…"  
  
_If he killed himself, then so would Lisa. They'd made a promise to survive or die together.

Jack sighed, and lowered the gun again. He'd just have to live to fight another day, and hope that the others would have the good sense to kill him when the time came.

The photograph went back in Jack's pocket, and Jack left the laboratory in search of Lisa. He hurried down a darkened corridor after the others, as fast as his aching legs could carry him.

Along the way he passed a series of storage cupboards, but didn't pay much attention to them. If he had bothered to stop and look, he would noticed the grille set high in the wall above one of the doors. He might even have noticed how one of the screws holding the grille in place appeared to be unscrewing itself…

It was some minutes before Jack finally caught up with the group. They'd already reached the end of the corridor and were just about to go down a flight of stairs when he came into view.

"Oh, you're still with us, then," said Dr Harlech, on seeing him. "That's good."

"Where have you been, Jack?" said Lisa. "We thought we'd lost you."

_No, but you gonna lose me soon, Lise… and I dunt wanna die 'cause then you gonna die too,_ thought Jack._ You dunt deserve to die just 'cause of me.  
  
_"Right, are we all here now? Yes? Good," said Renée. "Let's go downstairs."

Lisa turned on the torch again, and the beam of light probed the darkness below as they went downstairs. Their footsteps echoed and clanged on the metal steps, but the sound faded gradually as the group descended.

Somewhere behind them, a shadow hidden amongst other shadows smiled to itself. So they were heading downstairs? Interesting. Five people go down the steps… it would be very interesting indeed to see how many came back up them again.

But there was no time to stand around and play waiting games. There was work to be done…

_----------_

Amber thought that Dr Harlech was looking unnaturally excited about being in a dark, creepy corridor and, characteristically, said so.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me," said Dr Harlech, smiling nervously. "It's just that I've heard some incredible rumours about the technology they're using in these labs. To tell you the truth, I can't wait to see it for myself. It's meant to be state-of-the-art."

"You've never been to this part of the complex before, then?" said Renée.

Dr Harlech shook her head.

"Oh, goodness, no," she said. "I've been here before, but only to take paperwork down to Dr Goddard's office. I've never been inside the laboratories before. I was only allowed to work in Research Labs #1 and #2."

"How come?" said Renée.

"The lab assistants weren't allowed to work in these laboratories without the researchers' permission," said Dr Harlech. "The only time we were allowed to work there was if one of the researchers ordered us to go there and help them with something."

"Presumably you were never invited," said Amber dryly.

"No. Dr Goddard preferred to work alone when she wasn't in Research Lab #1 or #2. She'd leave me some work to get on with and disappear for the rest of the day."

"And I bet she never mentioned what she was doing in there," said Amber.

"She never told me, and I never asked," said Dr Harlech. "Though with the benefit of hindsight, I doubt it was anything good."

"No kidding," said Amber tartly. "So, what's behind Door Number One?"

They stopped outside the first door they came to; no laboratory door, this, but an unassuming little brown plywood door with only a plastic plate to indicate what lay inside:Dr A. Morton.

"Ah, the elusive Dr Morton," said Amber, grasping the door handle and pulling the door open. "So we meet at last - oh…"

Dr Alistair Morton - correction, the _late _Dr Alistair Morton - was slumped at his desk, blood trickling from a hole in the side of his head. A gun was resting on the desk, a few inches away from the dead man's fingers, as if it had just slipped from his hand.

"He's been dead at least two days," announced Amber, recovering from the shock. "Suicide, by the looks of things."  
  
"Did he leave a note?" said Lisa.

"What, like "Please excuse Dr Morton from work on account of being dead?", you mean?" said Renée.

"No, no, a suicide note - like a letter explaining why he killed himself," explained Lisa.

"Sort of like "Help, help, the zombies are coming and I don't want to join them, so I'm going to blow my brains out instead of just shooting them all and running away", then," said Renée.

"Uh… sort of," said Lisa diplomatically.

"There's something there, just underneath his head," said Dr Harlech, pointing. "If someone could lift his head up a little - thank you, Amber - then I can find out what was on his mind."

Amber, shuddering with disgust, lifted the man's head up by his hair. Dr Harlech snatched an open book from underneath his forehead.

"What have we here?" she said to herself, and examined it carefully.

The book was a very nice leather-bound journal; quite expensive, by the look of it. Its former owner would probably have been quite upset to have seen the spray of blood droplets across the pages, had he not been considerably past caring.

"Hmm. The last entry was two days ago," said Dr Harlech, turning back a page or two. "Looks like you were right, Amber."

There was a slight squelch as Amber let the late Dr Morton's head drop back onto the desk. Jack, looking profoundly unwell, mumbled something and left the room at speed.

"What did he say?" said Renée.

""Adios, breakfast", I think," said Dr Harlech, as she read through the final journal entry. "He doesn't look well, does he?"

"I'm not surprised," said Renée. "All that rushing around, too much violence and not enough food or sleep. It's enough to make anyone sick. So what did the good doctor say, Dr H?"

Dr Harlech cleared her throat, and began to read the journal entry aloud.

_"September 26th. They're everywhere, and it's far too late to run. We were told to stay here because it was safer than being outside, but by following their orders we condemned ourselves to death. Most of the employees have been infected by now. Those who aren't dead are dying, save for a few of us who managed to escape unscathed. I count myself among those fortunate few, although I'm beginning to wonder how fortunate I really am."_

Lisa looked at the corpse of Dr Morton. Putting a bullet through your own brain seemed about as unfortunate as it was possible to get.

_"Most of the survivors, including myself, tried to fight our way out of the building a few hours ago,"_ Dr Harlech continued. _"I don't know why we bothered, or where we thought we were going to run to. Most of the city has been infected by now, with only parts of uptown Raccoon City left untouched. Doubtless that those living there will soon succumb to the T-Virus as well."_

Lisa thought briefly, regretfully, of Beatrice, Paul and the nightmare that had been her sixteenth birthday party. 

_"Our escape attempt was a disaster. I should have stayed and hidden in the old bomb shelter, like one of the lab assistants was said to have done. Perhaps then I wouldn't have had to see the others being slaughtered by zombies. I can still hear their screams…"_

"One of the lab assistants - that's you, right, Dr H?" said Renée.

"That's right, Renée. Where was I? Oh, yes…"

Dr Harlech found her place in the text, and started reading again.

_"They're_ _all dead now, and I almost envy them their deaths. Better to die than live and wait in fear, with only one bullet left in my gun and no means of escape. The T-Virus may not be running through my veins, but I know I'm going to die anyway. There are zombies down here too, and they'll find me eventually. It's only a matter of time. The way I see it, I may as well hasten my demise by firing the very last bullet in my gun, and find peace in death."_

"Poor guy," said Renée. "But I guess he was lucky he died before his guts got ripped out." 

"I wouldn't call killing yourself lucky," said Amber. "And I bet Christina would probably call it lack of ambition. Is that it, Clarissa?"  
  
"Yes, that's it," said Dr Harlech. "Though he wrote something in tomorrow's "Things To Do Today" section."

"What does he intend doing tomorrow, then?" said Renée.

"Decompose," read Dr Harlech.

Oh. Says it all, really," said Renée. "Well, this guy's dead and Lisa's parents obviously aren't here. What now?"

"We take this journal with us, and move on," said Amber. She took the journal from Dr Harlech's hands, closed it, and slipped it into the pocket of her pants. At least, that was the idea - the journal was too big and wouldn't fit.

Amber swore under her breath.

"I think you should find something to carry all those documents in," said Lisa. "Like a bag or something. Your pockets are going to split at the seams at this rate."

"Good idea, Lisa," said Amber. "Um…"

She looked around the room, and spotted a briefcase beneath Dr Morton's desk.

That'll do nicely," she said, picking it up and opening it. The briefcase contained nothing more than an empty sandwich box; Amber discarded this. Removing a crumpled mass of documents from her pockets, she smoothed out the papers and put them carefully into the briefcase. Dr Morton's journal was placed on top of them.

"Oh, can you look after these?" said Lisa, handing Amber the piece of paper she'd found about the L-Project lab security protocols. After a moment's reflection, she took Almond's diary from her backpack and gave it to Amber, deciding that it was probably safer in a briefcase than a backpack.

"Sure," said Amber, putting both items into the briefcase. She shut it tightly. "There. Now we've got the important stuff safe, let's go."

They opened the office door just in time to hear Jack scream. Panicking, Lisa pushed past the other women and stumbled out into the corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a group of eight zombies; a bunch of former scientists in various stages of decay. They were lurching towards Jack, who was standing in the middle of the floor, rooted to the spot with terror.

"Jack!" cried Lisa. "You've got a gun! Shoot them!"

Jack said nothing; he just stood there, trembling from head to toe. He knew he could shoot them, but the paralysis of fear meant that he couldn't move a muscle.

What was more, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to live any more. If he died, he'd end up as a zombie… but how was that so different from what would happen if he lived? He was infected and he was going to die anyway.  
  
_Might as well get it over with,_ thought the part of him that wanted to give up his struggle for survival.

"Jack!" yelled Renée, as she and Amber emerged from the office. "Shoot them!"

At last, Jack's survival instinct cut in again. He tightened his hold on his handgun and aimed it at the closest zombie, now just a few feet away from him.

But then something unexpected happened - the zombies came to a sudden halt, their stance making them look almost uncertain about something. After staring vacantly at Jack for a moment, they turned and began to shuffle back the way that they'd come.

When they had staggered out of sight again, Amber marched forward and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"What the hell just happened?" she demanded to know.

Jack turned round and stared at the others, open-mouthed.

"I - I dunt know," he said, looking perplexed. "I dunt understand… why they just leave like that?"

"Maybe it's because you were pointing a gun at them," said Renée. "Perhaps they got the message and decided not to tangle with you."

"Don't be absurd," said Dr Harlech crisply. "Those things don't feel fear. They don't feel anything except hunger. Their intelligence has long gone. They're not going to avoid people just because they have guns."

"I know they don't have any feelings any more," said Lisa, timidly offering her opinion to Jack. "But back there they looked almost… scared. Like they were afraid of you."

"Why would they be 'fraid of me?" said Jack blankly.

"I don't know," said Lisa. "I don't understand it either. But those things were definitely avoiding you for some reason. I wish I knew why."

_I wish I know why too, _thought Jack unhappily._ I know I be infected an' all that, but why the other zombies be scared to go near me? What be happ'nin' to me?  
_  
The thought still circled around in his head as he and the others moved on down the corridor in a close group and an uncomfortable silence.  
  
_What I be turnin' into? A zombie? A corpse? Or somethin' else? Oh, God, help me…!_


	35. The Chamber Of Horrors

****

35: The Chamber Of Horrors

Drs Belinda Patrick, Stuart James and Anthony Hodgman had been very unhelpful, Amber thought. She'd been disappointed by the lack of proof of any sinister activities in their offices, particularly paperwork. She'd expected incriminating documents, but there didn't seem to be any; she was beginning to wonder if they ate all the suspicious paperwork here.

There was still no sign of Lisa's parents, and the young girl's faith in their survival was clearly fading fast. But there was something worse than the palpable death of hope in Lisa, and that was the growth of fear and apprehension, made plain every time she looked at Jack.

She was worried about him, and Amber didn't blame her. Headaches, dizziness, nausea, vomiting… the signs pointed to the T-Virus, yet all the people she knew who had succumbed to the T-Virus had died within the space of just a few hours. If Jack had the T-Virus, then he should already be a zombie - but he was still alive and upright.

Something wasn't right. No, not just Jack, although something wasn't right there, either. There was something else, something_ wrong_ about this whole situation…

Footsteps.

She could hear her own, loud and clear. Beside her was the fast-paced _tiptaptiptap_ of Dr Harlech's sensible shoes, and the twin _pat, pat_ sounds of Jack and Lisa's sneakers not far behind her.

A little further behind them, but not much, was the rhythmic but not, surprisingly, loud thuds of Renée's eighteen-hole army boots hitting the floor.

That was it.

At least, that _should _have been it.

It might just have been an echo, but she wanted to be sure…

"Can you hear footsteps?" said Amber, pausing to listen.

"Well, ours, yes," said Lisa. "I'm assuming you mean _other_ footsteps."

"That's exactly what I mean," said Amber. "I think there's someone following us."

"Zombies?" suggested Renée.

"No, they walk with kind of a shuffling sound," said Amber immediately. She'd had plenty of experience in that respect. "Definitely not a zombie."

"Maybe it's Christina," said Dr Harlech. "She might well have caught us up by now - Jack? Jack, what are you _doing_? Put that gun down before you shoot yourself in the head!"

"I think I'll just go and check," said Amber hastily, taking advantage of the chaos by putting down the briefcase she was carrying and making a surreptitious exit.

Moving as soundlessly as her footwear would allow, Amber crept back along the corridor, keeping her eyes open for any sign of movement.

There were no telltale shadows, nor were there any of the noises suggesting that someone was trying not to be heard. An ordinary person would have assumed that there was nobody there, and gone about their business. Amber, however, had several years of experience in the police force under her belt, and it had taught her many useful things.

It had taught her, for instance, that just because you couldn't see or hear someone, it didn't mean that they weren't there. Your failure to see anyone hiding in a dark corridor _could _mean that there was nobody there; alternatively, it could mean that the person in question was just extremely good at hiding.

There was someone in here. She could feel it.

"All right, come out," said Amber loudly, trying not to sound unnerved by the way the silence sucked up her words. "I know you're there, whoever you are. Come out right now, with your hands where I can see them."

Not a sound, not a movement. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that there was nobody in the corridor.

"I'm warning you," said Amber, as loud as she dared. "Come out now, or I'll shoot."

_Shoot? Hah - shoot what? Where? You can't _see_ anything, Amber…_

"I won't ask again!" said Amber, her voice shaking. "Come out now, with your hands up, and stand where I can see you! Do it _now_!"

The last word came out as a sort of frightened squeak. Some dust fell from the ceiling, but other than that, nothing happened.

Suddenly, the corridor felt a lot less intimidating, and now she realised that it was empty - really empty.

Amber rubbed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had barely slept in three days. Perhaps she was starting to imagine things.

"Never mind," she muttered, and turned back.

When Amber returned, she found the group standing pretty much where she'd left them. They were watching her closely, waiting with bated breath for her news. Jack looked like the most anxious of them all.

"Nobody there," she reported, and picked up the briefcase again. "I guess I must have been hearing things."

Jack's nervous expression melted into one of relief. The rest of the group breathed out again, looking considerably happier.

"Good," said Renée. "I've had enough of monsters today. I'm glad there's nothing nasty on our tail."

"Yeah, Christina was really getting on my - aaargh!"

"Will you _shut up_? She'll hear you!"

"Stop stepping on my foot!"

"I'll stop stepping on your foot when you start shutting up!"

It seemed extraordinary to Lisa that grown women could behave more like children than teenagers, who technically _were_ children. Adults were strange creatures, she thought. They seemed to think that the whole world belonged to them, and that nobody could possibly get anything done without them.

Admittedly, Amber and the others had been very helpful to her and Jack from time to time, but Lisa nevertheless suspected that if she and Jack had been left to their own devices, they would probably have found her parents and been out of the city hours ago.

Still, everything happened for a reason. If they hadn't run into Amber, she'd be a walking corpse by now. Similarly, Dr Harlech would be dead, killed by that giant zombie, and Renée would still be lying in the street, slowly bleeding to death. Christina would probably have been fine, though. People like Christina always seemed to be cheating death, especially when they richly deserved it.

They carried on walking. Amber and Dr Harlech were still bickering as to whether Christina would be able to overhear them.

"Oh, shut up," said Jack grumpily.

"Pardon me for breathing," said Dr Harlech, looking affronted.

"Just let it go, Clarissa. He's had a rough day," said Amber.

"Haven't we all," muttered the scientist.

"No kidding," said Renée. "I think that giant cockroach was the worst. I'm _sure _cockroaches aren't meant to be the size of a house, with eight-foot-long tentacles, and spitting acid at people."

"I've got no shortage of bad things to choose from, I have to admit, but I think the worst part of _my _day was probably when a zombie burst in on my sixteenth birthday party and ate my guests," said Lisa.

"It's your birthday today?" said Amber, surprised by this new revelation.

"Unfortunately, yes," sighed Lisa.

"Oh. Um, happy birthday, Lisa," said Dr Harlech, looking sheepish. "Except it's not really a happy birthday, I suppose. I mean, I wish it was, and everything, but… oh dear, I'm just making things worse, aren't I..."

"Hope things get better, Lisa," said Renée sympathetically. "Today must have really sucked for you. It's meant to be a happy birthday, not the worst day of your life."

"Tell me about it," said Lisa.

They fell into silence again as they passed another series of doors, each one marked with the words "LABORATORY SUPPLIES". Amber, deciding to leave no stone unturned, stopped to open one of the doors.

"I can't see anything suspicious," she said, peering inside.

"Doesn't mean there's nothing there," Renée pointed out. "It's not like you can see much when it's this dark."

"Good point. I'll just go and," Amber cleared her throat nervously, "and have a look inside, shall I?"

"Yeah, that would be nice," said Renée. "You can even borrow my rifle if you want."

"Really?" said Amber hopefully.

"No."

"Oh."

Amber took a deep breath.

"Okay then," she said. "Here I go…"

She stepped inside, and suddenly the whole room lit up. Blinding white light filled the storeroom and corridor, temporarily dazzling her.

"Ow… why is it so _bright_?" said Amber, shielding her eyes.

"Guess they never got round to installing those energy-saving light bulbs, huh?" said Renée.

"Guess not," said Lisa.

"Shocking waste of energy, just for a storage room," said Amber, scowling up at the lights as her eyesight returned to normal. "I bet this company uses enough power for the whole city. No wonder they say we're running out of coal and oil. Hah! Umbrella's probably destroying the rainforests too!"

"Amber?" said Jack, who'd noticed something strange about the room.

"What?" said Amber.

"About the lights… they turn on when you walk in the room," said Jack, trying to untangle the thread of his thoughts from the mass of cotton wool that seemed to fill his head.

"Yes? What about them, Jack?" said Amber kindly. "There's nothing unusual in that. It's probably just motion sensors or something. Lots of companies use them now."

"The lights turn on when you walk in," said Jack slowly. "So how come they got a light switch in here?"

Amber looked around, and saw what Jack was talking about. On the wall near the door was a small white switch.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "I wonder…"

She turned round, and strode purposefully out of the room. Seconds later, the room went dark again.

"Goes off when you leave," she said to herself. "So then what does that switch do?"

"You've probably been in there a couple of times fetching supplies, Dr H," said Renée, turning to the scientist. "Any ideas?"

Dr Harlech shook her head.

"No, not really," she said. "I always assumed it was for the heating system, but I never touched it. I don't touch switches unless I know exactly what they do."

"But how do you know what they do until you press them?" said Renée, one of life's natural button-pressers. "I mean, I _never _would have guessed that the UBCS barracks had a self-destruct button until I mistook it for the air conditioning one day… man, you should have heard the Sarge yell. Lucky he knew the shutdown sequence, or I'd have looked pretty stupid."

"You think I should press the switch?" said Amber.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't," said Dr Harlech, looking alarmed. "You don't know what it does!"

"It's probably not a good idea," agreed Lisa. "You might fuse the lights or something."

"Are you kidding? Go for it, Amber," said Renée. "Something cool might happen."

"What, _here_?" said Jack. "No way! Dunt touch it, Amber! It prob'ly gonna blow us sky-higher!"

"Don't you mean sky-high?" said Renée.

"Higher than that," said Jack darkly.

"So what should I do? Should I press it?" said Amber.

"No, don't! I don't know what it does! Anything could happen!" said Dr Harlech.

"Dunt do it! We all gonna die!" said Jack.

"I really wouldn't," warned Lisa. "They'll probably bill you for it if you break something."

"Hey, you might as well. You never know until you try," said Renée evenly.

Amber looked at them, then at the switch, and made a decision.

"Okay everyone, I'm going to press the switch," she said. "I'm _fairly _sure that nothing dreadful will happen if I do, but get ready to run like hell, just in case…"

"No!" yelled Jack.

Lisa looked uncomfortable, and Dr Harlech, whimpering, ran and hid behind Renée. Renée was the only one of the group who appeared completely unfazed; the look on her face was merely that of keen interest, as opposed to Lisa's vague worry, Jack's outright panic or Dr Harlech's gibbering terror.

Amber shrugged, and pressed the switch. A subdued humming that they hadn't noticed up until now stopped.

"You see? Nothing to worry about," said Amber, turning to address the group. "Just the heating system."

"Um… Amber?" said Lisa.

A section of shelves behind Amber, apparently identical to the surrounding shelves, was sliding soundlessly aside.

"You see? Perfectly all right," Amber continued. "I don't know why you all looked so nervous. I'm sure they would have put up a notice or something if it had been a self-destruct button. You know, like "Do Not Touch", or something."

It was then that Amber finally noticed her audience's stares and open mouths.

"What?" she said.

A plastic medicine bottle dropped off the shelves and rolled across the floor. Amber automatically bent to pick it up. She looked at it, frowned slightly, then turned around to see where it had come from.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the big steel door in the place where a section of shelves used to be.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed. "Where did _that_ come from?"

All heads turned to look at Dr Harlech, who had since emerged from her hiding place behind Renée to see what had happened.

"H-hey," she gasped, her eyes and mouth wide open with shock. "Don't look at me! I must have been down here a dozen times, and I have _never_ seen _that_ before!"

"Wow," breathed Renée. "A secret door! That is so cool!"

"So creepy, you mean," said Lisa. "I mean, come on, we're in a secret lab, and yet even down here, they've got a door that they keep hidden? There's obviously something horrible in there. I don't think we should go in."

"Me either," said Jack. "We oughta just push that switch 'gain an' get the hell outta here. This kinda stuff be for dudes like James Bond, no kids like me an' Lise."

"Are you _crazy_?" said Renée, incredulous. "Not investigate a secret door? What kind of kids are you? When I was a kid I would have loved to find a secret door in a high-tech laboratory! That would have been the coolest thing ever! Come on, what are we waiting for? Let's go in!"

"No. No way," said Dr Harlech, backing away. "I am _not_ going in there. Lisa's right! If they hid that door from everyone who works here, then they hid it for a reason! And I don't want to find out what that reason is! Let's just get out of this lab! Right now!"

"What about my mom and dad?" cried Lisa.

"Oh, come on! You really think they're hiding behind a secret door?" said Dr Harlech shrilly.

"Well… no… but we can't just leave!" said Lisa.

"I agree. We have to check this out," said Amber firmly. "If there's something horrible being hidden in there, then it's my job to find out what it is and deal with it. Umbrella's not keeping any secrets hidden from us. Not any more."

"Good luck getting in," said Dr Harlech. "Look."

There was a control panel next to the door, with a message flashing on the screen.

PLEASE INPUT ENTRY CODE

"And before you ask," said Dr Harlech, "No. I have no idea what the entry code is. Neither do any of you. Let's just go now."

"No, we're not going anywhere. I'm sure there's some way we can figure this out," said Amber, staring at the number keys on the control panel's LCD screen. "It's just a shame I didn't bring some equipment along, or I could have dusted for fingerprints."

"I have an idea," said Lisa. "Can I borrow a First Aid spray?"

Dr Harlech looked slightly puzzled, but she handed Lisa the one that she'd taken from the medical room.

"Of course," she said. "But how will that help us to - ?"

Lisa went into the storeroom. She looked closely at the LCD screen, then gave it a squirt of First Aid spray.

"Lisa, what are you _doing_?" said Amber, aghast. "You shouldn't waste that stuff! It's not that easy to come by, and we might need it!"

Lisa simply shushed Amber into silence, and watched the screen closely. The vapour gradually faded from the screen, though Amber noticed that droplets of the spray had stuck to some marks that looked a lot like -

"Fingerprints?" said Amber aloud.

"Exactly," said Lisa, grinning.

"Now that's clever," said Amber. "How did you know that would work?"

"I saw something like it in the movies once and I thought it might be worth a try," said Lisa.

"It's surprising how educational the movies can be," said Amber, nodding. "Now, let's see. Which numbers have they been pressing…?"

There were fingerprint marks on top of the numbers 1, 2, 4 and 9. By the amount of smudged fingerprints covering the number 4, it looked as if this number had been pressed a lot.

"They've probably used the number 4 twice in the entry code," said Amber. "Okay, let's see now. 12494?"

ERROR - INCORRECT ENTRY CODE

"I must have got the numbers in the wrong order," said Amber. "Oh well, there's only so many combinations of these numbers. I'll try again. How about 44291?"

ERROR - INCORRECT ENTRY CODE  
WARNING - 3 INCORRECT ENTRIES WILL LOCK THIS DOOR FOR 24 HOURS

Lisa and Amber looked at each other.

"Uh-oh," said Amber. "That's not good."

"Definitely not good," said Lisa. "What if we get it wrong again?"

"What's the problem?" Renée called.

"The control panel says three incorrect entries will lock the door completely for the next twenty-four hours," Lisa called back. "We've already got the code wrong twice."

Renée marched into the room with her assault rifle at the ready. She moved Amber and Lisa gently to one side, and stared at the control panel's flashing red error message.

"Twenty-four hours? The hell with _that_," she said, and fired a stream of bullets at the control panel.

Sparks and bits of plastic flew everywhere, though the two stunned civilians noticed the control panel light turn green:

ENTRY CODE CONFIRMED

before dropping out of the wall completely, trailing wires and smouldering bits of plastic pock-marked with bullet holes.

"Remember, kids," said Renée, as the door opened before them. "Violence solves _everything_."

"At the police academy, they taught us that violence is not the answer," said Amber primly.

"Ah, well," said Renée, grinning. "I've always said that it depends entirely on the question."

"And what if violence still isn't the answer?" said Amber.

"Then you're probably asking the wrong question," said Renée simply. "Shall we?"

"Of course," said Amber. "You first."

The mercenary stepped through the stricken doorway and entered the passage beyond it, looking around curiously.

"Wow… this is so cool!"

"I'm not inclined to agree," said Amber, but she followed Renée anyway.

Dr Harlech looked at Jack and Lisa.

"I don't really want to go after them, but I probably should, shouldn't I?" she said.

"You could say you be lookin' after us," said Jack helpfully.

Dr Harlech beamed.

"Yes! I'm looking after you two, that's right! You kids shouldn't be left alone, after all…"

"You're just a big scaredy-cat, aren't you?" said Lisa.

"Basically, yes," admitted Dr Harlech. "Linda and I never really had much in common. I mean, she's not afraid of anything. And look at me - I'm afraid of everything."

"You remind me of Amber," said Lisa, smiling.

"Amber? Oh, no," said Dr Harlech, shaking her head. "I'm not like Amber at all. I wish I was, though. She's very brave."

"What? Amber isn't brave," said Lisa.

"But she _tries _to be," said Dr Harlech earnestly. "She gets scared and runs away, but she comes back to face what she's afraid of. And she stands up for what she believes in, and she cares about us - even me, and there's no reason why she should care about someone who helped to destroy her life. She's a good person. I'm not like that."

"Yes, you are," said Lisa.

"What makes you say that?" said Dr Harlech, puzzled.

"If you were a bad person, you wouldn't feel guilty about working for a company which wiped out a town," said Lisa. "You wouldn't give a damn how many people died, as long as you got paid. But you care whether people live or die, and you feel bad about what happened. You're not a bad person, Dr Harlech. Bad people don't care."

"I guess you're right," said Dr Harlech, with a sigh. "But I still feel like - well, like Nazi scientist scum."

"That means you still have a conscience. That's more than a lot of Umbrella employees do, by the sound of things," said Lisa. "Don't worry about it."

Dr Harlech nodded.

"Thank you."

There was a distant cry from the passage beyond the door. Seconds later, Renée came running back out, white-faced and shaking.

"Oh… oh God… you don't want to go in there," she gasped. "It's horrible! Zombies I can handle, but that… that's just _wrong_!"

With that, she rushed out of the storeroom and out of sight.

"What was that all about?" said Lisa, frowning.

"I don't know, but now I feel even less inclined to investigate," said Dr Harlech. "Mercenaries don't scare easily. If something's unnerved a mercenary _that _much, then whatever's at the end of that passage must be pretty awful."

She swallowed.

"But I worked in this complex, so I'm partly responsible for what went on inside these laboratories," she said, trying to put on a brave face. "That means I have to go in there and put a stop to whatever they've been doing down here."

"We'll go with you," said Lisa.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Dr Harlech. "It could be a bit dangerous."

"No more dangerous than that giant zombie I push out the window," said Jack.

"Well… all right. Come on," said Dr Harlech.

They ducked slightly as they went through the door, and walked down the hidden passage as quietly as they could. They soon came to an automatic door, which swung aside at their approach.

The first thing that met their eyes as they went inside was a bank of large drawers, six drawers in height and twenty drawers in length. Every drawer was neatly labelled. Amber was opening and closing each one of the drawers in turn, looking at the labels and occasionally grimacing at whatever the contents were.

"Wow… that be the biggest filin' cabinet I ever see," said Jack in amazement.

Amber paused, her hand on one of the drawer handles.

"Filing cabinet?" she repeated. "Well, I suppose that's one way of putting it…"

Jack frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know what they're keeping in here?" said Amber.

"No. What?" said Jack.

"See for yourself," said Amber, and pulled open the drawer.

Jack took a step towards the drawer to see what was inside, then reeled backwards with a cry of horror and disgust.

Inside the drawer, lying on a long metal shelf, was the corpse of a middle-aged man clad only in boxer shorts. There were bite marks all over his body, and his blue-white skin had been torn open in numerous places; his arms and legs were still encrusted with dried blood. There also appeared to be some sort of mould starting to grow on him.

But what made Jack recoil wasn't the blood, or the wounds, or even the mould. It was the expression on the man's face. His cold, dead eyes were staring up at nothing, and his mouth was wide open, as if he'd died screaming.

"May I introduce Mr Bartholomew Schneider," said Amber, producing some notes from a small compartment inside the drawer and flicking through them quickly. "Formerly of 2219 Autumn Park Drive, Raccoon City. According to this, he used to be in the property business. Owned a bunch of houses and some warehouses on the outskirts of uptown, which he rented out to local businessmen. He disappeared while hiking in the Arklay mountains three months ago. His body was later recovered from the river bank on the outskirts of town, and - ah yes, I see he was taken to Raccoon City General Hospital for autopsy. So quite what he's doing _here _is anybody's guess."

Jack looked even more queasy, and Lisa wondered if he was going to be sick again. Judging by the look on his face, the man's body must have been a mess. She was just thankful that she couldn't see much from where she was standing.

Dr Harlech apparently could - but surprisingly, she didn't seem particularly unnerved by the sight of a mouldering corpse. She did, however, say:

"Yuck. That's even worse than the guy whose stomach exploded on Ward 12."

"That was when you worked at the hospital, right? Was that why you left?" said Amber. "No, wait, you already told me. Underpaid and overworked, right?"

"Right."

"Thought so."

"That, and the fact that I happened to be standing right next to the guy at the time. Having someone explode all down the front of your new lab coat does absolutely nothing for your job satisfaction."

"I can imagine," said Amber dryly.

"I'm sure you can. Um… I think you'd better close that drawer, Amber," said Dr Harlech. "Jack's looking nauseous, and this is a clean lab coat. When it comes to being sprayed with the contents of someone else's stomach, once is _quite _enough."

Amber shrugged and slammed the drawer shut, and the late Mr Schneider disappeared into the inner recesses of the body storage units, leaving behind the faint but unmistakeable odour of death. Jack shuddered, and looked away.

"So what spooked Renée so much just now?" said Lisa.

"I don't know," said Amber. "I haven't looked around yet - I've been busy checking these drawers. None of the occupants are a pretty sight, it has to be said, but they're all of considerable interest. Mainly because none of them belong here. They're all meant to be in the hospital morgue."

"What are they doing here, then?" said Dr Harlech.

"Either they were donated for medical research, or Umbrella's ever-growing list of crimes includes body-snatching," said Amber darkly. "I'm inclined to believe the latter, myself. If they'd donated their bodies to science, then they'd still be at Raccoon City General Hospital - the old Raccoon Hospital doesn't have a morgue staff any more, not since that unfortunate incident last year. Besides, Raccoon City General has much better facilities now that they've finished rebuilding it."

"What happen to it?" said Jack.

"Oh, there was an electrical fire there six years ago," said Dr Harlech. "The whole place burned to the ground. Umbrella donated a few hundred thousand to set up the Raccoon Hospital, just to cover the city while they rebuilt Raccoon City General."

"That's why my parents started working for Umbrella," put in Lisa. "After the fire they applied to work at Raccoon Hospital instead, but they couldn't get jobs there because it already had all the staff it needed."

"Just think, if they'd started their own clinic instead of going to work for these body-snatching corporate scumbags, we wouldn't be in this mess right now," mused Amber. "Oh, well. We'd better have a look around and find out what scared off our favourite mercenary."

They moved on, passing the body storage and turning the corner into a laboratory that looked just like an operating theatre. However, it was an operating theatre that not only appeared to have been designed solely for dead people, but was also exempt from all hygiene regulations.

Blood covered almost every surface, including parts of the floor, and there were decaying bits of bodies everywhere. The stench was overpowering, enough to send Jack into a bout of dry heaving.

But that wasn't the worst part, thought Amber, as she watched Lisa fussing over Jack. The worst part was that some of the bodies weren't even human.

Most of them were, and some of the others looked human enough to fool the casual observer, but one or two of them, half-hidden beneath bloodied sheets, looked as if they'd been hacked to pieces and sewn back together inexpertly. That inexpert hand had also managed to add some extra features that definitely hadn't been standard-issue at birth.

"No wonder Renée ran away screaming," said Amber to herself.

She glanced quickly at Dr Harlech, and saw real astonishment and horror in the scientist's eyes.

_She really didn't know about this… _

"A few months ago, I heard a rumour that Umbrella was kidnapping people to use as live test subjects for its products," said Dr Harlech slowly, after a long and very uncomfortable pause. "I didn't think it was true. Even when Janice told me the truth about the so-called "treatment" we were working on, I never thought that they'd actually _test _it on human beings…"

She trailed off, staring at the mutilated corpses that littered the room.

"But then how do you explain the T-Virus epidemic?" said Amber.

"The T-Virus outbreak was an accident," said Dr Harlech dully. "There was some kind of spillage at the Birkin laboratory, down in the sewers. They said that rats spread the virus through the sewer system and that they took it up to street level with them."

"Well, that makes sense," said Amber. "It certainly accounts for how quickly the virus spread through the city."

"My neighbour contracted the T-Virus after being bitten by a rat," said Lisa.

"There you are, then," said Amber, gesturing towards her. "Contaminated rats caused the T-Virus epidemic. But if that's true, then I'm surprised that we didn't see any giant rats down in the sewers."

"That's not really surprising," said Dr Harlech. "Rats can be carriers for all kinds of deadly diseases without suffering any apparent ill-effects. I don't think that the T-Virus would do them much harm."

"So what now?" said Jack.

"Spread out and look for evidence," said Amber. "If we're ever going to bring Umbrella to justice, then we'll need proof of what they've been doing. Photographs, documents, anything. I just wish we had a camera… hey, where are you going?"

Dr Harlech had spotted something, and was making a beeline for the far end of the room.

"I think I saw a camera on that desk over there," she said, pointing to a row of desks at the rear of the laboratory.

Amber followed Dr Harlech over to the desks, and sure enough, there was a small but expensive-looking camera sitting neatly on top of some files.

"Well spotted, Clarissa," said Amber, picking up the camera and turning it over in her hands. "Hmm… none of the photos have been used. They must have replaced the film just recently. Oh well, all the more for me. Look after this for me, will you? I'm going to take some pictures."

Dr Harlech took the briefcase from Amber's hand and put it on the floor by her feet, then picked up one of the files from the desk. She opened it, and began reading the contents.

"Oh. These are just budget details," she said aloud.

"Really? That's absolutely fascinating," said Amber, standing back to take a picture of a mutated body on one of the operating tables. "Let me know when you're done."

Dr Harlech frowned.

"But budget details aren't - were you actually _listening _to me just now?"

"You're right. I agree entirely," said Amber distantly, going off to the body storage unit.

"You're not listening, are you?" said Dr Harlech, her frown deepening.

"Yes, that's a very good idea," said Amber absent-mindedly, opening four or five drawers and snapping a few photographs of Mr Schneider and some of the other corpses. "Do that."

"I thought not," said Dr Harlech. "Well, Amber, I think it's time that I told you the truth. The truth is, I think you're a stupid cow with a face like a baboon's backside."

"Yes, I think so too," said Amber, nodding as she moved in for a close-up shot of a headless corpse.

"And I'm a member of a secret society that's trying to bring Elvis back from the dead," Dr Harlech announced, slightly louder this time.

"That's nice. Everyone should have a hobby," said Amber vaguely.

"Did I mention that my favourite hobby was robbing liquor stores?"

"Very interesting."

"I'm a Communist too, you know. I'm trying to overthrow the government."

"That's good."

"I kidnapped the Lindbergh baby. And I shot J.R."

"Yeah, me too."

It was quite obvious that none of this was sufficient to attract Amber's attention. Dr Harlech decided to try a different tack.

"Amber, I'm sleeping with Umbrella's CEO."

"You WHAT?"

Amber banged her head on one of the open drawers, and turned to glare at Dr Harlech.

"Just kidding. But it certainly got your attention," said Dr Harlech, smiling.

Amber muttered something under her breath, and carried on with what she was doing.

Dr Harlech shrugged, and opened another file.

----------

While this rather surreal exchange was taking place, Jack and Lisa had found another door, just around the corner from the body storage.

"What you think they keep in here, Lise?" said Jack, trying to look through the gap at the bottom of the door.

"If it's anything like what we just saw back there, I'm not sure I want to find out," said Lisa.

She sniffed the air. She could smell something strange emanating from the door; a chemical odour which, despite its odd familiarity, she couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Can you smell something, Jack?" she said at last.

Jack sniffed once or twice.

"Yeah," he said. "I smell - uh, you know that time when we go on a field trip to the museum, an' we see all the dead frogs an' stuff in jars? It smell kinda like that liquid stuff they keep 'em in. You know. For-what's-it-called."

"Formaldehyde," supplied Lisa.

"Yeah," said Jack. "It smell just like that."

Lisa sniffed again. Jack was right; it was the same smell, but without the hint of museum dust.

"You're right," she said, nodding. "It _is _formaldehyde."

"We gonna go in an' see what they be keepin' in here?" said Jack, getting up.

"I suppose we'd better take a look," said Lisa reluctantly.

They opened the door and stepped into the room beyond. When Jack saw what was inside it, he froze completely, able only to stare helplessly at the sight which met his eyes.

The shock of seeing the room's contents had the same effect on Lisa, fixing her to the spot and overwhelming every one of her senses. When the full enormity of the horror within the room finally hit her, seconds later, an involuntary shriek escaped from her lips.

----------

Amber was already halfway to the door when she heard the scream. Dr Harlech dropped the file she was holding, and chased after her.

"I _knew _you shouldn't have pressed that button!" she cried. "Didn't I tell you it was a bad idea?"

"Shut up and run!"

They reached the door and flung it open.

"Lisa! Jack!" gasped Amber. "Are you -"

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh, my…" she breathed.

The massive room was lined with tall cylindrical glass tanks filled with embalming fluid. Each tank contained a human body, pale and dead and clad in a hospital gown. Their expressions of agony, preserved forever in formaldehyde, were terrible to behold.

"Oh, God," whispered Amber. "There's so _many _of them…"

Dr Harlech was trembling uncontrollably.

"Someone tell me I'm not seeing this," she whimpered. "Please, tell me this isn't real!"

"Oh, it's real all right," said Amber grimly. "And it's even worse than I thought..."

The camera in her hands whirred as she started taking photograph after photograph.

Lisa and Jack wandered past the endless rows of tanks, staring in bewilderment and disbelief at their contents. Occasionally they glanced at each other, silently confirming that what they were seeing was really there.

"This remind me of the time I sneak into the movies to go see "Alien: Resurrection" back in Tijuana," said Jack at last. "You ever see that movie, Lise?"

Lisa, staring in horrified fascination at a young woman suspended in one of the tanks, shook her head.

"Well, in one bit, the alien-lady an' her _amigos _find a secret lab on the spaceship an' when they go in, they find these tubes with a whole bunch of human-alien hybrids inside," said Jack.

"What happened next?" said Lisa, glad of the distraction.

"I dunt know, I dint get chance to find out," admitted Jack. "I throw up all over the dude in front of me an' I get kicked out by the _chicas_ who sell the popcorn."

"Oh."

Lisa returned her attention to the woman in the tank, who was floating gently in the clear liquid. Before expiring, the woman had apparently started to mutate an extra head; there was a large growth on her shoulder, with what looked like the beginnings of eyes and a mouth.

Lisa reached out and touched the tank, willing the sight to be nothing more than a bad dream or a terrible hallucination, but the glass was firm and slightly warm beneath her fingers.

She closed her eyes tightly and turned away, no longer willing or able to look at the unfortunate woman in her final resting place of glass and chemical preservatives.

"This is monstrous," she said quietly. "What kind of person could do something like this to another human being?"

Jack shook his head wordlessly. If there was an answer to the question, he didn't know what it was.

Dr Harlech did, though. She'd found some desks near the centre of the room, and now she was holding a picture frame in her left hand. She was still shaking, but not with fear.

"The same kind of person who keeps pictures of their kids on their desk," she spat. "Family pictures - in a goddamn _torture chamber_!"

Amber ducked as the picture whirred past her head and smashed on the floor somewhere behind her.

"Clarissa, calm down," she said, raising both hands. "And stop throwing things. You shouldn't throw pictures of people's kids on the floor."

"What does it matter?" Dr Harlech snarled, snatching up another picture from the desk. "They're all dead now anyway! You know who those kids were, Amber? Those were Dr Dayton's kids! Margaret Dayton! I always thought she was so kind… so nice, and all that time, she was working in _here_!"

Amber grabbed Dr Harlech's wrist just in time.

"Experimenting on innocent people and turning them into monsters, then going home to her husband and kids every night! How could she?" screamed Dr Harlech.

"I don't know either, Clarissa. But you have to calm down, okay?" said Amber, gently prising the picture from Dr Harlech's fingers and putting it back on the desk.

Dr Harlech breathed out.

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Okay. I'm calm now. Can you let go of my hand, please?"

"Sure," said Amber, and released her grip on the scientist's hand.

"Thanks," said Dr Harlech, rubbing her wrist. "And now that you've let go of me, I can help you search the desks. Umbrella has to be punished for this, and there _must _be something here that will help us do that, right?"

Amber smiled warmly, and slapped the scientist on the back.

"Atta girl, Clarissa. Come on, those papers look promising. Let's take a look, shall we?"

Jack watched them set to work on the untidy pile of papers that covered one of the desks, then turned back to look at Lisa. She was still drifting past the long rows of tanks, as if caught in a horrible dream that she couldn't wake up from. Her gaze passed from one side of the chamber of horrors to another, not spending more than five seconds on the same thing.

But then something in one of the tanks caught Lisa's eye, and she froze. She turned round slowly, unwilling to look, but unable to stop her gaze from being dragged towards the tank.

The colour evaporated from her face.

"Oh no…" she gasped.

"Lise?" called Jack. "Hey Lise, you okay?"

Lost in her own personal hell, Lisa didn't seem to hear him. She sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

"No… oh, no…"

"Lise?" said Jack, hurrying to her side and kneeling next to her. "Lise, what be the matter?"

Lisa pointed to the tank in front of her. Jack followed her shaking finger, and saw a girl, about fifteen or sixteen years old, floating inside it.

Like the others, the girl was clad in a hospital gown and looked as if she'd died in great pain; her teeth were bared slightly, and her eyes were tightly closed. Her skin was white, her lips were blue, and her hair had probably been mouse-brown once. Now, under the light that illuminated the tank's contents, it looked paler; strands of it drifted slightly in the formaldehyde.

"Poor kid," said Jack, shaking his head. "But why you be cryin' over her? Whatever sufferin' she go through, it be over now. An' at least it ain't you in there, right?"

Lisa's sobbing grew louder. Jack winced - he hated seeing her cry - but patted her on the shoulder.

"Jack, do you remember your first day at school?" said Lisa, sniffling.

"Uh, yeah," said Jack, trying not to sound thrown by the question. "First time I ever see you. I introduce myself, and then you introduce youself, an' then I think you ask me where the girl who used to sit next to you go. Then - "

Lisa cut him off, and pointed back at the tank.

"That's her. The girl who used to sit next to me. That's Charlotte…"

"Oh," said Jack, suddenly feeling very awkward.

"She just disappeared one day," said Lisa softly. "Nobody knew what happened to her. Someone said she'd moved away, but I knew she couldn't have - she would have _told_ me if she was moving! Ever since then, I've been wondering what happened to her. And now I know. Umbrella got her. They kidnapped my best friend and they killed her for their experiments! My best friend!"

Lisa stood up.

"I'm going to find out who did this," she said angrily. "And when I do, they're going to pay. Whoever did this to Charlotte is _dead_."

On the other side of the room, Amber and Dr Harlech's search for clues among the paperwork had so far been largely unsuccessful. Most of the pages were covered in smudged, near-illegible notes and pencilled calculations that meant nothing to either of them, and one or two pages were completely blank.

"Nothing, nothing… damn, that's no good. Oh, there's nothing _here_," complained Amber. "Secret evil labs are meant to have _mountains _of suspicious paperwork, but in this place nothing incriminating ever seems to get written down! What the hell is wrong with these people? They're evil scientists, for crying out loud! They're not doing it right!"

"Hey," interrupted Dr Harlech. "Hate to contradict you, Amber, but I think I've found something."

She pulled some slightly rumpled sheets of paper out of the diminished pile. After giving each one a brief, cursory glance, she handed them over to Amber.

"See what you make of them," she said.

Amber took the sheets of paper from the scientist's hand, and began to read.

The first document was a photocopy of a security document. Most of it didn't seem to correspond to the L-Project lab complex at all - it was something to do with a secret Umbrella facility disguised as a deserted factory - but Amber read with interest the instructions on what to do if civilians were to enter the facility:

If this should occur, do not hesitate to shoot them. If they choose to surrender, arrest and then transfer them to the laboratory as guinea pigs. You will be rewarded.

This was underlined in red ink.

"Good grief," she said under her breath, and turned to the next document.

**SECURITY REPORT**

Further to the instructions given in the factory facility's Security Manual, the following individuals have been apprehended after entering the facility:

**Affleck, Todd (27):** Surveyor for J. Hughes Development Co. Sent on behalf of the aforementioned company to report on the possibility of purchasing the factory site for housing redevelopment and extensions to Raccoon Park. Shot in both legs after attempting to escape. Later surrendered and brought to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. Prior to testing, Affleck's clothes were left near the riverbank outside the city to indicate the man's apparent suicide. No further action required.

**O'Sullivan, Lucy (20):** College student investigating the effects of pollution on the flora and fauna of Raccoon Park. Strayed too near the facility grounds and was apprehended. Surrendered after a brief struggle and was taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. An attempt to cover up her disappearance by means of faking her suicide has caused suspicion on the part of the RPD and O'Sullivan's college. Situation to be monitored.

**O'Neill, Molly (45):** Local woman searching for her missing terrier. The dog was shot on sight. O'Neill was apprehended in the facility grounds and surrendered immediately. Taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. A background check on O'Neill revealed no immediate family or close friends, but we have erred on the side of caution and her death has been faked in a car accident outside the city. No further action required.

**Shelley, Jacqueline (32):** FBI agent sent to investigate the disappearance of Todd Affleck and Lucy O'Sullivan. Initially surrendered but then attempted to escape. Recaptured and taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. Chief Irons of the RPD has been contacted regarding this event and the situation has now been resolved. No further action required.

**McMinn, Keenan (21)** &**Willowherb, Amy (19):** Homeless couple searching for shelter in what they clearly believed to be a deserted factory. Apprehended upon entering the facility and taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. Unlikely to be missed. No further action deemed necessary at this time.

**Marshall, Stan (15) **&** Marshall, Hugh (12): **Local children earlier seen playing soccer in the Raccoon Park area. Entered the facility grounds after their ball smashed one of the facility's upstairs windows. Apprehended and taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. Parents were informed of their "tragic deaths in an accident at the disused factory" and human remains have been provided for a funeral. No further action required.

**Lascelles, Charlotte (15): **Local girl found wandering the facility grounds in search of a missing baseball. Initially fought off three guards but was then apprehended and taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. A background check has revealed parents but no other close family. Further action required.

**Lascelles, Robert (42)** & **Lascelles, Julianne (40): **Following their daughter's capture, Mr and Mrs Lascelles have been removed from their home and taken to the L-Project laboratory for experimentation. Their house has been stripped bare of all furnishings and the family's possessions have been put into storage. Their belongings will later be auctioned off. Officially, the Lascelles' home has been repossessed for three months' non-payment on their mortgage, and the family have since left Raccoon City for a new life in Canada. This has been accepted by all those enquiring about the family's sudden disappearance. No further action required.

"My God," said Amber, appalled. "All those people brought here and killed, just because they stumbled across that factory by accident… and some of them weren't much older than Lisa and Jack."

Dr Harlech nodded.

"Those poor people," she sighed, as Amber started reading the third document. "But at least we can do something about it now. We've got documents proving that Umbrella's been killing people."

"Clarissa?" said Amber suddenly. "That bioweapon you found out you were working on - was it called the L-Virus, by any chance?"

Dr Harlech nodded.

"Yes, I think it was. I don't know what the L is supposed to stand for, though. Janice didn't tell me. Why do you ask?"

"Take a look."

Dr Harlech craned over Amber's shoulder to read the document more thoroughly. It read:

_"L-Tyrant" Test Results_

As we already know, the T-Virus affects living organisms in a variety of ways - it can turn mammals such as humans and dogs into zombies with very little mutation, and its effects on amphibians, reptiles, insects and other organisms have been documented elsewhere.

However, in some cases the T-Virus has turned human test subjects into an entirely different type of creature from the zombie; these creatures are known as the "Tyrants".

The Tyrant was originally considered to be the ideal bioweapon, and our superiors demanded that the bioweapons division produce more Tyrants.

Unfortunately it is not that simple. Only a limited proportion of the population have the correct type of DNA which, when exposed to the T-Virus, will turn them into Tyrants, as opposed to mere zombies. Attempts to increase the numbers of Tyrants produced by other means have so far been unsuccessful.

In addition, the Arklay mansion incident has proved that the Tyrants, while being extremely powerful bioweapons, have a number of fatal weaknesses - the creatures' beating hearts are exposed, they are relatively slow and stupid, and lastly, they can be destroyed by weapons such as the Magnum revolver. We have been ordered to eliminate these flaws entirely.

Other prototype viruses have been used in conjunction with the T-Virus in the hope that better results can be achieved. Birkin's G-Virus - of which we have been fortunate enough to obtain samples through Dr Hartley and his wife - is incredibly powerful and, in addition to its regenerative properties, it enables a creature infected with the G-Virus to implant embryos into other living organisms, in order to spawn copies of itself. On the other hand, the mutations caused by the G-Virus are far too rapid and unstable; in a matter of hours, mammalian test subjects have been reduced from a powerful bioweapon to a large, shapeless mass which can be destroyed with relative ease using sufficiently powerful weapons.

The Nemesis strain of the T-Virus has been found in previous studies to be a more effective way of creating useful bioweapons. So far only one Nemesis has been produced, but happily this was accomplished using a subject who did not have the required DNA to become a Tyrant. The speed, strength and intelligence of the Nemesis are a great improvement on the Tyrant, and it can also infect other organisms with the Nemesis virus. It also appears to be virtually indestructible at present, and mutations have been slower but more stable. However, some of the data gathered on the Nemesis predicts that it will eventually mutate, like the G-Virus subjects, into a shapeless mass with limited potential for use as a bioorganic weapon.

Following the creation of the L-Virus, we hope to create a bioweapon as powerful, intelligent, fast and indestructible as the Nemesis, but without the drawbacks of inconvenient further mutations which will render the subject almost useless as a bioweapon. The L-Virus is still in its early stages of development at the time of writing, but by combining it with other viruses we hope that it will eliminate the unwanted effects of the T- and Nemesis-strain T-Viruses while reinforcing their desirable properties, and thus create new and better Tyrants.

We have tested the early L-Virus on trespassers captured at the "Dead Factory" facility, and our test results are as follows:

Test Subject #1: Todd Affleck

Injected with a mixture of T-Virus and the prototype L-Virus. Some mutations occurred, but regrettably the subject expired before any real progress could be made.

Test Subject #2: Lucy O'Sullivan

Injected with a mixture of T-Virus, Nemesis-strain T-Virus and the prototype L-Virus. Some mutations observed in the facial area. Subject expired before further testing could be conducted.

Test Subject #3: Molly O'Neill

Injected with a mixture of T-Virus, G-Virus and the prototype L-Virus. Mutations at first seemed promising, but rapidly began to spiral out of control. The subject was terminated soon afterwards.

Test Subject #4: Jacqueline Shelley

Injected with a mixture of T-Virus, G-Virus, Nemesis-strain T-Virus and the prototype L-Virus. Subject appeared to be in agony within seconds of the viruses being introduced into her system. Rapid mutations caused the growth of apparatus for infecting other organisms with the Nemesis virus, but the subject's intelligence dropped to an intolerably low level. Subject terminated.

The list went on and on. Anger and disgust briefly competed for control of Dr Harlech's face, but faint puzzlement beat them to the punch.

"What's a Tyrant?" she said.

"And I thought you were the Umbrella expert," sighed Amber. "All right, a Tyrant is… well, imagine the tallest guy in the world. Then imagine he's a few feet taller than that again, stronger than anything you can imagine, and built like a pro-wrestler."

Dr Harlech's mouth opened.

"Goodness," she said weakly.

"Yep. A Tyrant is big, strong, and ugly as sin too," said Amber. "It's also very difficult to kill."

"So where did you see it?" said Dr Harlech, who was starting to look worried.

"Oh, I've never seen a Tyrant, except in pictures," said Amber, and Dr Harlech breathed out again. "But the STARS survivors told me all about them. They're horrible things. Jill and Chris had to use a rocket launcher just to wipe out the Tyrant at the Arklay mansion. Rebecca fought one off too, and she only had a Magnum. Hope I never have to see one."

"Same here," said Dr Harlech, handing back the papers to Amber. The briefcase clicked open as Amber filed their latest finds.

"Whoops…"

A scrap of paper had fallen out of the documents as they had been put away, and it fluttered to the floor.

"It's okay, I'll get it," said Dr Harlech, stooping to pick it up again.

"I didn't even notice that. What is it?" said Amber.

"It looks like part of a memo. Two memos, actually, but the second one's incomplete. The bottom part's been torn off," said Dr Harlech, passing it to Amber.

Sender: "Dr Elizabeth Hartley" (queenofhearts(a)umbrellamail. com)  
Recipients: "Dr Margaret Dayton" (maggy247(a)umbrellamail. com); "Dr Dean Forrester" (lumberjack(a)umbrellamail. com); "Dr Theresa Goddard" (thereisagoddard(a)umbrellamail. com)

Re: L-Virus testing

I have recently discovered that human test subjects are being used in parts of this facility. Testing on live human subjects has not been authorised and is to be stopped immediately. No subjects obtained by Umbrella's security guards are to be brought to this facility in future. The recent spate of disappearances at the "Dead Factory" facility has raised eyebrows and may arouse further suspicion. One FBI agent has already been intercepted and there may be more to follow. Stop this practice at once or suffer the consequences.

Further to the discovery of these experiments, I refuse to allow you to test anything on the subject named Charlotte Lascelles. She is to be released unharmed as of now and returned to her parents at once. All documentation will be handled by myself and my husband.

Dr Elizabeth Hartley

------

Sender: "Dr Margaret Dayton" (maggy247(a)umbrellamail. com)  
Recipient: "Dr Elizabeth Hartley" (queenofhearts(a)umbrellamail. com)

Re: Test Subject #9

Contrary to your memo as of 6/20/98, we have permission to carry out experiments on live human test subjects. These tests have been ordered by Dr Lampeter and Dr Hazlitt. Dr Fisher has been made aware of the existence of live human test subjects in the L-Project facility and is satisfied with our progress. The tests will continue as planned.

Test Subject #9, the girl named Charlotte Lascelles, cannot be released. Testing had already begun when we received your memo via e-mail and she is now infected with the Nemesis strain of the T-Virus and the prototype L-Virus. Releasing her now could result in contamination of the entire city and the exposure of Umbrella's bioweapons programme, and that is absolutely unacceptable. We are aware that Subject #9 is your daughter's best friend, but you must remain impartial in these matters…

There wasn't any more. In Amber's opinion, this was probably just as well. She folded it up and tossed it into the briefcase along with the other papers.

"I don't think we should tell Lisa about that memo," she said quietly.

Dr Harlech shook her head.

"I don't think we should either. It would only upset her."

"Yeah. Don't mention anything to her."

"I won't if you won't."

"Good. Are there any more papers left?"

Dr Harlech picked up the remaining papers from the desk and sorted through them hurriedly. She was just about to put them down again when she noticed something. Her expression, already stony, hardened further.

"What is it?" said Amber, who'd seen her scowl.

"Hey, I wonder what happens when you press _this_ button?" said Dr Harlech, pointing to a small red button on the surface of the desk. "Does it call room service? Hah! Knowing these people, there'll be another secret room right next door, full of tanks just like these ones!"

"Then press it," said Amber. "We have to know."

Momentarily forgetting her fear of pressing unknown switches, Dr Harlech stabbed the little round button savagely with the tip of her index finger, as if poking out the eyes of everyone who had ever worked in the room.

A section of floor in the middle of the room opened up to reveal a gaping hole, and something large rising slowly from the depths.

"What is that?" said Amber, peering into the hole. She stepped back quickly as whatever it was passed floor level and continued its inexorable climb upwards.

"It look like another one of those tanks," said Jack, as the object came into view. And sure enough, it was a cylindrical glass tank, identical to the others in the room but built on a much larger scale.

"I wonder why this one's kept apart from the others?" said Dr Harlech.

The tank had risen just enough for them to see the test subject's head; whoever was inside was startling ugly, like a hairless, scarred and very disgruntled caveman with chalk-white skin.

The tank rose and rose, and now they could see more - a huge bald man with impossibly broad shoulders, biceps to spare, and a muscular torso covered in scar tissue. This in itself was not particularly shocking; what made them gasp was the sight of the man's heart, which appeared to be growing on the outside of his chest. It was still beating, with thuds that made the glass rattle.

More of the tank was emerging from beneath the floor. Lisa averted her eyes after chest-level, since she had been well brought up. The others, however, stared in shock.

"No wonder that guy look pissed off with the world," remarked Jack. "No _cojones_, an' if that ain't bad enough, someone kill him an' he end up floating in a tank. I think I would look real pissed too if that happen to me…"

But that wasn't what Amber and Dr Harlech were staring at. Their attention had been drawn to one of the giant's arms, which ended in a strange growth of spikes instead of a hand.

Amber swallowed.

"I think we're in big trouble," she said, trembling.

"If that's what I think you were describing earlier, I'm inclined to agree," said Dr Harlech, who looked as if she was about to cry. "Let's get out of here."

"We can't just leave the tank like this," argued Amber. "Look, it's still alive. It could break out of that tank at any second."

"That's all the more reason for us to leave, then," said Dr Harlech. "Just take a picture of it to prove it exists, and let's get out of here. Perhaps if we leave quietly, it won't wake up and it'll stay put."

"No, Clarissa, we have to get rid of it," said Amber.

"How? We can't kill it, and it's _way _too big to flush," said Dr Harlech.

"Put it back, then," Amber told her.

"Um… okay," said Dr Harlech, and she pushed the button on the desk. Instead of retracting into the floor like she'd hoped it would, the tank stayed exactly where it was. She frowned, and pressed the button again. The tank stayed resolutely in place. Panicking inwardly, Dr Harlech pressed the button as hard as she could.

There was a rumble from inside the tank. Slowly, dreading what they were about to see, the little band of survivors turned their heads towards the tank.

"Uh-oh…" said Lisa.

The formaldehyde in the tank was draining away with a horrible gurgling noise. They watched in horror as the liquid dropped to chin-level, waist-level, and then ankle-level in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, no," said Jack. "That ain't good."

Pearly white eyes snapped open. A fist clenched and unclenched, then clenched again and slammed into the side of the tank. Jack and Lisa both jumped as cracks formed in the glass like spider webs.

"Put it back! Put it back!" screamed Amber, over the noise of the Tyrant pounding the tank again and again.

"I'm _trying_!" screamed Dr Harlech, frantically pressing the button again and again.

But it was too late. The cracks in the tank grew longer and longer, before finally exploding outwards and spraying shards of reinforced glass across the room.

Like the world's ugliest duckling hatching from an egg, the Tyrant emerged from the broken remains of the tank to an accompaniment of screams from its audience. Though not quite as big or as hideous as the giant zombie that they'd faced before, it was just as effective at striking terror into their hearts.

"You said they needed a rocket launcher to take out one of these things, right, Amber?" said Lisa, as they backed away from the monster.

Amber nodded wordlessly.

Lisa gulped.

"Oh boy," she said weakly. "We're screwed…"


	36. Duty And The Beast

****

36: Duty And The Beast

The four terrified survivors backed away until they hit one of the glass tanks behind them. All the while, the Tyrant loomed over them like the shadow of impending death. Dr Harlech was trembling like a leaf.

"Get them out of here," she said hoarsely.

"What?" said Amber.

"Get the kids out of here, Amber," repeated the scientist. "I'll deal with this."

"Are you insane? You can't take on that thing by yourself!" exclaimed Amber.

"I have to. That thing is my responsibility," said Dr Harlech, her voice shaking.

"Look, I know you feel guilty about what happened, but you're talking about fighting a _Tyrant_!" cried Amber. "It's not just a big zombie! It's one of Umbrella's toughest bioweapons, and unless you have a rocket launcher hidden underneath that lab coat of yours, there is _no way in hell_ that you can defeat it! It will _kill_ you! Do you want to die?"

Dr Harlech swallowed.

"No. I don't want to die. But I have to do this," she whispered.

"No, you don't! You didn't create this thing! This is _not _your responsibility!"

"Someone has to fight it," said Dr Harlech stubbornly.

"But it'll kill you if you fight it!" protested Amber.

"It'll kill us all if I don't!" snapped Dr Harlech. "If we run out of here, it's just going to come after us! I have to kill it now!"

"At least let me help you!" Amber pleaded. "You can't do this alone!"

"Look, don't worry about me! Worry about Jack and Lisa! They're the ones that need to be looked after, so get them out of here right now!" said Dr Harlech. "I don't matter - they do!"

Amber looked from the scientist to the Tyrant, which was still staring at them as if it was trying to decide exactly how to deal with the puny little humans. She looked at Jack and Lisa, who were cowering behind her, and came to a decision.

"Jack! Lisa! Get out of here! Go and find Renée! We'll handle this!" she ordered.

"But Amber - " Lisa protested.

"But nothing, Lisa! Do as you're told!" yelled Amber, pulling out her handgun. The Tyrant was striding forwards in a way that suggested that it meant business, and not the civilised nine-to-five variety either.

Jack nodded dumbly and ran for the door. Just before she went to follow him, Lisa turned back and took in the scene: a policewoman and a frightened scientist standing in a room full of dead bodies, about to take on one of the T-Virus' most dreadful creations with nothing more than a handgun. A lump came to her throat as she realised that this could be the last time she saw Amber or Dr Harlech.

"A-Amber? Dr H? Promise you'll come back, okay?" she said faintly.

"We promise, Lisa!" said Amber quickly. "Now hurry! Find Renée, she'll keep you safe!"

Lisa disappeared, slamming the door behind her as she left. The Tyrant's head swivelled towards the door.

"Hey! Over here, butt-ugly!" shouted Amber, throwing the first thing she could think of to draw the creature's attention away from the teenagers' escape route. "Come and get us!"

Her briefcase bounced off the Tyrant's head and skidded across the floor. The Tyrant growled, and turned back to face them.

"Why didn't you go with them?" yelled Dr Harlech, as the Tyrant headed in their direction. "Renée could be anywhere in this facility! There's no guarantee that they'll even find her! If both of us die and something else finds them before Renée does, they'll be in real trouble!"

"I know! But I'm _not _leaving you here to die, Clarissa!" Amber yelled back. "I promised myself I wouldn't abandon anybody again!"

"That's very considerate of you, Amber, but - oh, shit, _look out_!"

The Tyrant took a swipe at them, but missed as the two women ducked; instead the blow connected with the tank that they'd been standing in front of. The glass smashed, pouring formaldehyde everywhere.

Dr Harlech and Amber rolled out of the way as the liquid streamed across the floor and the deformed body of an unfortunate civilian tumbled out of the broken tank, landing on the floor with a smack.

"What are we going to do?" said Amber, as they took cover behind the desks.

"Aim for the head and the heart," said Dr Harlech. "The report said the exposed heart was a problem, and I recall you saying that head shots work on zombies!"

"You think that'll work?"

"I really hope so, because it's the only strategy we have right now!"

They peered cautiously over the top of the desks. The Tyrant was turning its head this way and that, apparently looking around the room for them. Suddenly its head swivelled, and they saw it look straight at them.

Instinctively they ducked back down again, their hearts in their mouths. The ground trembled as the Tyrant strode towards them.

"How am I going to kill _that_ with a handgun?" said Amber, struggling to make herself heard over the noise of the Tyrant's footsteps.

"You don't have to, Amber!" Dr Harlech shouted back. "Just distract it for me!"

The Tyrant stopped just in front of the desks. Without so much as a roar, it let its thick-set arms slam into the furniture, smashing it apart. Amber and Dr Harlech scrambled out of the way just in time as splintered wood and paperwork flew everywhere. The Tyrant picked up a large piece of one of the stricken desks, and raised it high above its head, ready to toss it at the helpless women.

Thoughts hurtled through Amber's mind at the speed of light as she tried to come up with a plan.

Okay, okay… it's a Tyrant, a bioweapon which you need powerful weapons to defeat. I have a handgun, which won't work, and Clarissa has absolutely nothing more lethal than a First Aid spray. How the hell am I supposed to distract this thing? And even if I can distract it, what is Clarissa going to do? Spray it to death?

She looked around quickly, scanning the room in the hope that some mysterious force had left a grenade launcher lying around somewhere for her own personal use.

Nope. Nothing but tanks and splintered wood and puddles of formaldehyde…

A piece of paper, propelled out of the wreckage of the desks and into the air by the Tyrant's movement, wafted across the room and settled at Amber's feet.

And a piece of paper. Fabulous. So… what can we do about this situation? Aim for the heart and head, yes, but major weaponry is needed here, or any weaponry in fact - hell, even something crude like a Molotov cocktail would do!

"Amber!" yelled Dr Harlech, from across the room. "Don't just stand there! Do something!"

Amber stared at the Tyrant, which was poised to throw the lump of wood. The creature seemed to be frozen in time, just like everything else in the room; even Dr Harlech's yells seemed to be coming from far away.

Can I make a weapon out of what's here in this room? No containers for a Molotov, but is that really necessary? What would I actually need? I'd need something flammable and something to light it with, and -

Wait… paper's flammable, wood's flammable, and so is formaldehyde! And that thing just broke out of a tank full of the stuff!

Amber's lips formed a thin, humourless smile. She knew what to do now. Quick as a flash, she scooped up the piece of paper from the floor. Snatching the lighter from the breast pocket of her shirt, she rolled the paper into a ball and ignited it.

She drew back her hand, and hurled the paper ball at the Tyrant. The burning paper bounced harmlessly off the creature's nose, and then -

Whoomph.

The fireball almost knocked Amber off her feet. Staggering, she looked up to see the Tyrant ablaze. Tongues of fire flickered along the creature's body as it roared with pain.

Come on, die, die, die, die, die...

But the Tyrant defied Amber's expectations. Instead of sinking to the floor and collapsing into a burning heap of ash, it just looked angrier than ever, and it tossed the piece of shattered desk, now aflame, across the room.

Amber screamed, and dived out of the way. The burning desk fragments crashed into another tank, which shattered and then burst into flames as the contents caught fire.

The whole room was a raging inferno; the air was thick with foul-smelling smoke and the floor was a sea of burning liquid. Tank after tank began to explode in the heat, and the flames rose higher.

"Oh, great! Nice going!" snarled Dr Harlech. "It's a hideous bioweapon which can't be defeated with anything less than a Magnum - and now it's on fire! Just like everything else! Well that's just _great_. Amber, when I told you to do something, I did _not_ mean that! Fire won't kill a Tyrant!"

"How do you know?" Amber snapped back. "I thought you didn't know anything about Tyrants, Clarissa!"

Without warning, a shrill buzzing sound filled the room; the smoke had set off the fire detection system installed in the ceiling. Water began pouring down from the sprinklers above their heads like an unexpected monsoon.

"I don't know anything about Tyrants!" shouted the scientist, wiping water droplets from her glasses with her sleeve. "But I know that while you may be right and completely incinerating a monster's corpse will kill it for good, simply being on fire won't stop normal zombies! One of the zombie dogs I killed was on fire, and that didn't stop it from trying to rip my throat out! Why should a Tyrant be any different?"

The fires in the room were almost out now, hissing and sputtering as the sprinklers extinguished them. Amber gaped at Dr Harlech, not even noticing the smouldering Tyrant trudging through the ankle-deep water towards them.

"You're right," she said. "But how are we going to beat it? I can't kill it!"

"I know! That's why I told you to distract it!" snapped Dr Harlech.

"But you can't kill it either! You don't even have any weapons!" cried Amber.

"I - _Amber, watch out_!" screamed Dr Harlech, pointing to something behind Amber.

"Wh - ?" began Amber, but she didn't even get chance to turn around. Before she even knew what was going on, she found herself snatched up off the floor and raised high into the air as huge, smoke-blackened fingers tightened around her throat.

Amber, gasping for breath, tried to struggle free of the Tyrant's grasp. When that didn't work, she tried aiming a kick at its shins, hoping that the blow would catch it off guard and make it loosen its hold on her. Instead, the creature's grip increased still further.

Amber's eyes bulged. She raised her hands, trying ineffectually to prise the Tyrant's fingers from around her throat. It was no use. It wouldn't let go, and she couldn't make it let go, no matter how much she kicked and struggled.

_This is it,_ thought Amber muzzily, as she looked at the face of her captor. _This time, it really is the end. That thing's face is the last thing I'm ever going to see. I'm going to die. I've let everybody down, especially Jack and Lisa. I promised them I'd come back… but now I'm going to die. I'm really going to die._

"No!" yelled Dr Harlech. "Let go of her, you big ugly freak!"

The Tyrant, still smouldering, stared stonily at the petite scientist, who was almost incandescent with rage. Amber was barely conscious now, but she was just alert enough to vaguely notice Dr Harlech pulling something shiny and metallic from one of the many pockets of her lab coat.

"I said_ put her down!"_

Through the mists of semi-consciousness, Amber could hear several loud bangs, and she vaguely wondered what they were. Perhaps it was the sound of more tanks exploding.

Something made the Tyrant stagger, and its grip on Amber loosened - then it threw her away like a rag doll. Amber felt herself falling as the world faded to black and all sensation slipped away, and she realised that this was the end.

Goodbye world…

Amber's body hit the knee-deep water with a splash. The water closed in over her head as she sank to the bottom, and a few bubbles rose up to the surface, popping one by one.  
----------

"We should go back," panted Lisa, as she and Jack ran back through the door in the storeroom and out into the corridor again. "Dr H and Amber can't take that thing on their own."

"An' we can?" said Jack. "No way, Lise. Remember what Amber say 'bout Tyrants? Rocket launchers or Magnums. We only got handguns, an' they ain't gonna hurt a thing like that. If we go back, we go back with more firepower."

"In that case, we really need to find Renée," said Lisa. "She's got an assault rifle - she can look after us _and_ help them."

"Where you think she could be?" said Jack.

"I have absolutely no idea," Lisa admitted. "I just hope she hasn't gone back up in the elevator. We'll never find her again if she has; this building is too big for us to search on our own. Do you think she's still here, Jack?"

"Yeah, she gotta be round here somewhere," said Jack. "She run out 'cause she see somethin' horrible, so maybe she just go somewhere for a while so she can get over the shock. I dunt think she would leave us here just 'cause she see somethin' gross."

"I think you're right," said Lisa. "Renée never struck me as being a coward. I just wish we had some idea of where she could - "

Jack stopped, and grabbed Lisa by the shoulder.

"I hear somethin' up ahead," he hissed. "Keep quiet."

They tiptoed along the corridor, and sure enough, there was the sound of someone's voice, just on the edge of hearing. It became louder and clearer as they approached a junction in the corridor, and they realised that whoever was speaking had to be just around the corner from where they were standing.

Lisa and Jack pressed themselves flat against the wall, and listened. The speaker sounded nervous, agitated, and there was a hint of desperation in the voice.

"… no, I can't do this. My job? I don't know whatmy job is any more. The whole purpose of my job seems to change every five minutes. I've been told to save people, then told I'm a - a test subject - and now _this_? Well, I'm not doing this. No. No way. Not for money, not for promotion, not for anything. But - oh, no. No, they wouldn't, surely!"

A pause.

"… but they would, wouldn't they? I can't let that happen. I really don't want to do this, but I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I? All right then. I'll do it - but only because I have to."

There was a rustle of clothing, like the sound of someone getting up. Lisa and Jack stiffened in fright. They were just about to turn and run away when Renée came around the corner. She looked profoundly unhappy about something. She was apparently so lost in thought that she walked right past Jack and Lisa without even seeing them.

"Renée?" said Lisa hesitantly.

Renée jumped, and turned around so fast that she almost fell over backwards.

"Lisa? Jack? What are you doing here?" she said tersely.

"We were looking for you," said Lisa, taken aback by Renée's tone of voice. "Renée, are you okay?"

Renée opened her mouth, said nothing for a second, then sighed.

"Yeah," she said glumly. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just - just talking to myself."

"You sure you be okay, Renée? They say talkin' to youself be the first sign of madness, dunt they?" said Jack, concerned.

Renée smiled a little, and shook her head.

"Nothing wrong with talking to yourself," she said, and now she sounded more like her usual cheerful self. "It's when you start _answering _yourself that you know you've got problems. So where are the others?"

"That's why we came to find you," said Lisa hurriedly, grabbing Renée's hand and dragging her back down the corridor. "Amber and Dr H are in really big trouble!"

"Trouble?" said Renée, breaking into a run. "What kind of trouble?"

"They're fighting a Tyrant, Renée, and they only have one handgun between them! Please, Renée, we need your help! They're going to die if you don't help them!" cried Lisa.

"Okay, so what's a Tyrant? I've never seen one of those before," said Renée.

"This big pale guy twice my height an' no nearly as good-lookin', an' real tough - we need real powerful guns to kill him! They told us to go an' find you!" said Jack.

"All right, I don't know how to beat it either, but I'll do the best I can," said Renée grimly. "Come on, we'd better hurry…"  
----------

Blood was trickling into the rising water, forming a cloud of red haze around the Tyrant's legs as it streamed down from the bullet wounds in the creature's torso.

Dr Harlech whimpered slightly as she took aim again, her hands trembling from fear and cold. The problem was that the wretched thing kept dodging all the time, even managing to deflect bullets somehow. There was no way a creature that size could be so fast, and yet it moved with terrifying speed and agility.

It moved again, lunging forward and reaching out to grab her by the throat. Dr Harlech screamed and threw herself out of the way. Unfortunately she hadn't noticed that the water was now almost up to her waist; instead of falling onto her hands and knees, she landed face-first into ice-cold water.

Dr Harlech picked herself up again, gasping for air. Half-running and half-swimming through the water to get away from the monster, she managed to get halfway across the room before the Tyrant turned around. At the same time, panicking, she turned and took a wild shot at her tormentor.

Unprepared for the attack, the Tyrant had no time to avoid it, and the bullet struck the creature in the heart. Blood spurted out of the ruptured organ and poured down the monster's chest like a crimson waterfall.

Elated though she was by this small victory over her enemy, Dr Harlech knew she hadn't won yet. The Tyrant would almost certainly bleed to death, but in the meantime it could still pick her up and shake the life out of her. She had to act fast…

The Tyrant had stopped in its tracks; it was raising its hand and touching its sticky, bloodstained chest, apparently puzzled by what had happened to it. Dr Harlech raised her gun again, aiming it carefully and trying to keep her hands steady.

"Hey, you!" she yelled. "Yes, you! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The Tyrant's head jerked upwards, and Dr Harlech pulled the trigger. With a bang that seemed to fill the whole world, the bullet tore through the air and pierced the Tyrant's forehead.

The world held absolutely still for a moment; then, swaying, the Tyrant dropped to its knees. Blood was gushing from the gaping hole in its head. Torn between triumph and slight nausea, Dr Harlech watched as the Tyrant finally pitched forward and landed face-down in the water with a splash.

"Right between the eyes," she said to herself. "Amber was - "

She suddenly realised that Amber was nowhere in sight, and panicked.

"Amber!" she shrieked, wading through the water towards the spot where she'd last seen the young policewoman. Sure enough, there was Amber's body, floating face-up and bobbing gently up and down in the water.

"Amber… oh God…!"

Dr Harlech struggled towards her floating friend and tried to haul Amber's limp form out of the water. Amber's face was ashen and her eyes were closed; it didn't look like she was breathing.

"Amber, please don't be dead!" cried Dr Harlech, wiping strands of Amber's wet hair away from her face and feeling desperately for a pulse. "You can't die! Not now!"

There was a weak pulse beneath Dr Harlech's fingers. The scientist breathed out, relieved that Amber was still showing at least one vital sign.

"Okay, Amber," said Dr Harlech aloud, "It looks like you could do with some artificial respiration…"

She looked around quickly, then groaned. The room was completely flooded and, thanks to the Tyrant's destruction of the desks, there were no flat surfaces of any kind to put Amber on.

"Great. Now what?"  
----------

Renée slowed to a halt as she came to the secret door of the storeroom. Water, slightly discoloured, was seeping out from underneath the door in the passage beyond. She stepped cautiously into the corridor, her brow wrinkling gently in a frown.

"What on earth…?"

She stopped at the door, looked down at the water pooling at her feet, and stooped to look closer. The eyes of Jack and Lisa were on her - she could feel their stares boring into her back like a diamond drill - but she was too disconcerted to care.

"What's wrong, Renée?" said Lisa.

"Yeah, an' why the floor be all wet?" said Jack.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," said Renée firmly, and she stood up, striding towards the door and glaring at it as it swung aside. Jack and Lisa looked at each other, shrugged, and followed.

Jack shuddered at the sight of the body storage unit, and hurried past it as quickly as possible, forgetting that the floor was wet.

"Whoa!"

His foot slipped on the wet floor tiles and he skidded across the room for several seconds, before falling flat on his back near one of the gore-spattered operating tables. Lisa clapped both hands to her mouth, horrified.

"Jack!" she called, and hurried over to pick him up. "Jack, are you hurt?"

"Nah, my backpack kinda give me a soft landin'. I be okay, Lise," he said, as she helped him to her feet. "Watch out for the floor, it be real slippery."

Renée was already at the door of the secret testing lab by the time Jack and Lisa joined her. There was a lot more water here, some of it stained with dark red. There was no sound from the other side of the door except the hiss of falling water. The silence and the water's scarlet discoloration made their blood run cold.

"Hang on, you guys! I'm coming in!" Renée bellowed, grabbing her rifle with one hand and reaching for the doorknob with the other.

The door creaked ominously. Lisa and Jack, whose instincts for impending danger had been honed to near-perfection by the events of the past twenty-four hours, turned and fled.

Renée shrugged, and opened the door. Seconds later, a wall of water knocked her right off her feet.

From the safety of the desk they were standing on, Lisa and Jack watched in shocked silence until the last of the water and debris had rushed out of the room. Renée got up, cursing and spitting water.

"You know, I really hate this place," she said to the world in general. "I can't wait until we get out of here."

Jack and Lisa jumped down from the desk, their sneakers hitting the wet floor with a splash, and followed Renée inside.

Dr Harlech was sprawled on the wet, glass-strewn floor next to Amber's lifeless form. Soaking wet and shivering with cold, she looked up at their approach. Renée looked up at the sprinklers, which were still running, and then down in bewilderment at the floor.

"What _happened _in here?" Renée exclaimed.

"Long story, and I don't have time," came Dr Harlech's brusque reply as she bent over Amber's body. "Amber's not breathing and I need to give her the kiss of life. Thanks for clearing the floor for me, though."

Renée glanced back at the room behind her, which was now awash with dirty water and pieces of sodden paper, broken wood and shards of glass.

"Uh… no problem," she said.

Dr Harlech carefully laid Amber on the floor, and prised open her friend's mouth. Holding Amber's nose tightly, she took a deep breath, then placed her mouth gingerly over Amber's and blew air straight into her lungs.

With a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a splutter, Amber twitched, then her eyes shot open and she sat bolt upright. Coughing violently and shivering with cold, she pushed Dr Harlech aside and fell forward onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath as she spat up mouthfuls of water.

"Th-thanks, Clarissa," she gasped.

"Are you all right?" said Dr Harlech, helping Amber to her feet.

Amber nodded her head.

"That's good," said Dr Harlech, looking relieved. "But please don't scare me like that again. I don't think my nerves can take much more of this…"

Renée looked around the room, and her eyes came to rest on the body of the fallen Tyrant.

"Wow," she said, clearly impressed. "I guess you didn't need our help after all…"

Amber saw the Tyrant too, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You killed that thing all by yourself?" she said to Dr Harlech.

"Uh-huh," said Dr Harlech, whose face was aglow with quiet pride.

"But how?"

"With _this_."

Dr Harlech handed over her weapon of choice to the policewoman. Amber took it, and her eyebrows rose even further as she realised what she was holding.

"A _Magnum_? Where in the hell did you get _this_? And don't tell me you just happened to find it lying around, because I won't believe a word of it. The only place you find a Magnum lying around is in video games."

"Oh, no, this is mine," said Dr Harlech earnestly. "After I was advised not to leave the project, one of my colleagues warned me that once the project was complete, the company might decide that I was a security risk and therefore, shall we say, surplus to requirements. I took his advice and bought this to protect myself."

"You bought a Magnum for _self-defence_?" said Renée, amazed.

"Look, some of the researchers are so afraid of this company that they won't even go to the bathroom in their own _house _without bodyguards," said Dr Harlech. "And I don't blame them. This company's idea of an equal opportunities policy is giving you a 50/50 chance of still being alive at the end of the week! I've seen what happens to you when you get into their bad books, and I wasn't about to let it happen to me."

"Very sensible of you," said Amber, nodding. "But why didn't you tell us about this before? We could have used an extra weapon."

"Because I'm down to eight bullets. I'm saving those for dire emergencies only."

"Did just now count?" said Amber.

"It absolutely did," said Dr Harlech. "But don't expect me to use the rest of these bullets unless I really have to, okay?"

"Sure thing," said Amber. "They're yours anyway. Just be sure to share them with the rest of us if something huge and horrible with ten heads jumps out on us in the corridor."

"I can't believe you took on that thing all by yourself," said Lisa, staring in wonderment at the dead Tyrant.

"I no can believe you take on that thing all by youself an' you _win_," said Jack, also staring at the body. "Wow."

"I'm just glad it's over," said Dr Harlech fervently. "And I never, _ever_ want to do that again. Not ever."

"Let's hope you won't have to," said Amber.

"Uh… Amber?" said Lisa, bending down to pick something up from the floor.

"What is it, Lisa?" said Amber.

"Isn't this yours?"

Lisa held up Amber's camera. Total submersion in freezing water and less than careful handling had not been kind to it; it was badly damaged and dripping water. Amber gave a cry of dismay.

"My camera!"

She took the broken camera from Lisa's hands and stared mournfully at it as water oozed out of its every orifice.

"Oh, no," she groaned. "Now we don't have any proof that they were kidnapping people for experiments! Damn, damn, _damn_! Why does this keep happening to me? I have the worst luck in the world!"

"Maybe I could fix it," supplied Renée. "I'm good at fixing things."

"I don't think you can fix this," said Amber gloomily. "It's ruined."

"But I could still get the film out, if I opened the camera in a proper dark-room," said Renée. "That way the film won't become overexposed when I take it out - and if the film is still intact, I might even be able to develop the pictures for you."

"Picking locks, field medicine, photographic development, zombie-killing… you're a woman of many talents, Renée," said Dr Harlech, smiling.

"Well, I do my humble best," said Renée modestly.

"You really think we can save these photographs?" said Amber.

"I expect so," said Renée. "Just put the camera somewhere nice and dark for now, so no light can get in through the cracks."

"Okay," said Amber. "I'll put in my br - "

She stopped, and a look of utter panic crossed her face.

"My briefcase! Where's my briefcase?" she cried, looking around for the briefcase that she'd thrown at the Tyrant. It was nowhere in sight.

"Dunt know. It ain't in here," said Jack.

"Oh no, oh no," said Amber frantically. "Not the briefcase too! Oh, God, where is it? I have to find it! I can't leave here until I find it!"

"We'll find it, Amber, don't worry. It can't have gone far," said Dr Harlech comfortingly. "All right, everyone spread out and look for Amber's briefcase. You all know what it looks like - it's the one we found in Dr Morton's office. A black leather case with a whole bunch of documents in."

They began to search the room, lifting up what little remained of the desks and moving aside piles of wood, wet paper and broken glass. Renée and Dr Harlech even managed to lift the Tyrant's corpse for a few seconds so that they could check underneath it.

"Nope, it's not under this guy," said Renée, letting the Tyrant's body slam back onto the floor again. "Where on earth could it be?"

"I've found it!" called Lisa from outside the room, and she came in holding the briefcase out in front of her.

Amber gave a squeak of delight as she saw it.

"My briefcase! Good girl, Lisa! Oh, I hope the documents are okay…"

She opened the briefcase, and breathed out. One or two of the papers near the top were slightly damp, but otherwise the contents of the briefcase had remained undamaged by the water.

"Thank God for that… I thought I'd lost them. The photographs I might have been able to manage without, but losing _these _would have been a real problem," she said, slipping the broken camera inside and closing the briefcase again. "All right, we've wasted enough time in here. Let's leave before something else smashes out of a tank."

Jack and Lisa were the first to run out of the room, not daring to look back in case Amber's prediction came true. Amber and Dr Harlech sauntered out after them, grateful that they were alive, the Tyrant was dead, and Amber's precious evidence was still safe.

Renée was the last to leave. She took one look back at the dead Tyrant and the devastation inside the room, shuddered delicately, and shut the door behind her. She caught up with Dr Harlech a few seconds later.

"That's a really nice Magnum you've got there, Dr H," she said thoughtfully, looking at the gun in the scientist's hand.

"Thank you," said Dr Harlech sweetly. "You can't have it."

"I don't suppose I could…?"

"No."

"I just want to - "

"No."

"Well do you think I could - "

"Absolutely not."

"But - "

"No."

"But all I want to do is - "

"Forget it."

"Fine. I like my rifle better anyway," said Renée sullenly.

"Then everyone's happy," said Dr Harlech with a sweet smile, and she went over to see what Amber was looking at.

"Hmph," muttered Renée, when Dr Harlech was beyond hearing distance. "Wish _I _had a Magnum…"

"What are you looking at, Amber?" Dr Harlech asked, kneeling beside Amber on the floor.

"I found this just by here - it must have been swept out of the room with the water," said Amber. "Looks like it came from the Tyrant's tank or something."

She held up a small, shiny brass plaque and showed it to Dr Harlech. It was engraved with the words:

TYRANT NO. 0072  
CODENAME: PHIL

""Phil"?" said Dr Harlech, her brow furrowing. "What kind of sick, twisted people would name something like that "_Phil_"?"

"The same kind of people who work in a place like that and still keep pictures of their kids on their desks," said Amber, taking back the plaque and slipping it into the briefcase through the tiniest of openings before securing the locks again.

Dr Harlech smiled wanly.

"You're quite right," she said. "I wish you weren't, but you are. It's unbelievable what kind of evil lurks in the hearts of men. Kind of makes you wonder if there really is a God after all."

"Well, there must be," said Amber, shrugging. "Heck, we're still alive, aren't we? I think that's proof enough that someone's watching out for us. I mean, we're not even infected."

"I'm afraid you're wrong about that, Amber," said Dr Harlech gravely. "You're infected. So am I. We all are."

There was a terrible silence.

"What?" said Amber feebly. "In-infected? Us?"

"Yes."

"No. No, that's not possible," Amber insisted. "None of us have been bitten. None of us are even sick! If we were infected, we would have turned into zombies by now…. wouldn't we?" she added, looking hopeful.

"Not necessarily. The T-Virus infects people at different rates depending on their level of exposure to it," explained Dr Harlech, and Amber's hopeful look vanished. "If it's injected directly into the bloodstream or introduced by a bite from another infected organism, then the rate of infection is very, very rapid and you'll change in maybe a few hours. It can also be spread through the air, but only if the level of concentration is extremely high. Since none of you have been bitten and the amount of T-Virus in the air is low, the only way you will have picked up the infection is through water consumption."

"But I don't drink water," said Amber. "Not from the tap, anyway. I only drink bottled water. It tastes better."

"You drink tea? Coffee? Anything like that?"

"Not for a week or so. I cut it out because I was drinking way too much and I was getting all jittery."

"Taken a bath lately? Or a shower? Brushed your teeth? Washed your hands?"

"Well of course, I'm not completely - oh."

"The T-Virus is thought to have been introduced to the city's water supply by contaminated rats in the sewers. The sewage works wouldn't have been able to get the virus out of the sewage with conventional treatment methods, so after being suitably treated and recycled, the sewer water would have gone straight back into the city's water mains afterwards. Anyone who drank the water, or used it for cooking or even washing will have been exposed to the T-Virus."

Amber's lower lip started to tremble.

"W-what does that mean? Are we going to die?" she whimpered. "After all this, we're going to die _anyway_? That's not fair! We made it here! We _survived_, dammit! I don't want to die!"

"Don't worry, Amber," said Dr Harlech. "If you're still alive after this much potential exposure, then you're unlikely to die. Your immune system's strong enough to fight the virus in the air and water, and you haven't been bitten, so you'll probably be all right. However, we can't take any chances. Renée's injuries may not have been caused by monster attacks, but she is still highly vulnerable to T-Virus infection."

"Oh, that's okay," called Renée from further back. "I've been vaccinated against the T-Virus."

Amber stiffened, and turned round.

"_What did you say_?"

"I was given the T-Virus vaccine before the mission. Everybody in our unit was," said Renée innocently. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

Amber, near speechless with rage, turned back to face Dr Harlech.

"You mean to tell me," she said, "that there's a _vaccine_ for the T-Virus? Exactly when were you planning on telling us this? And why wasn't the vaccine distributed to the population after the outbreak? This town could have survived! Instead, everybody's dead except for us! _Why weren't we told_?"

"B-because it was only perfected five days ago," said Dr Harlech shakily. "The T-Virus vaccine was still being developed at the lab in the old hospital when the outbreak happened - they couldn't finish it in time! By the time the first samples of the vaccine was ready, it was already too late; the virus was spreading, we didn't have nearly enough of the vaccine to distribute to the general population, and mass production would have taken weeks. There just wasn't enough time."

"Hmm. I'll save my scepticism for later. Are there any vaccines left here?" said Amber.

"Yes. We were given just enough for every member of staff on the project. Unfortunately, some of the batches of vaccine we received hadn't been stored properly during transit, rendering them completely useless. We had a small quantity of effective vaccines, but the surviving members of staff who received it got killed by zombies anyway. All the vaccines in the world won't stop you from getting your throat torn out."

"So how many vaccines are left?" said Amber. "The ones that work, I mean."

"Six. But Renée's already been vaccinated, and presumably so has Christina. So there'll be enough for the four of us, and two spare for when we find Lisa's parents - if we ever do, that is."

"Good, because I think Jack might be infected."

"What? When did this happen?"

"Earlier today. We've fixed him up a couple of times, but his arm looks really bad and he hasn't looked well since it happened."

"Then we'd better find those vaccines fast. The cold storage room is only a few doors down from here. Come on, we have to hurry!"  
----------

When Dr Harlech, Amber and Renée finally emerged into the corridor, they found Jack and Lisa waiting patiently outside.

"Oh, there you are. What kept you?" said Lisa.

"Never mind that, Lisa. We have to get to the cold storage room as soon as possible," said Dr Harlech, taking the two teenagers by the shoulders and hurrying them along the corridor, as Amber and Renée followed behind at a brisk pace.

"The cold storage room? _Porqué_?" said Jack, frowning. "Why we gotta go there?"

"Well, I'm afraid I have bad news for you," said Dr Harlech. "Because we've been exposed to the T-Virus for a prolonged period of time, we may be infected. If you've used water in any shape or form in the past week or so - drinking, washing, whatever - then you've come into contact with the virus. I also understand that you took a trip through the sewers, which is where the outbreak originated."

"We're _infected_?" said Lisa, appalled.

"Yes, but don't worry. We have a small amount of T-Virus vaccine in the cold storage room; there's just enough for six people. That's me, you two, Amber and your parents, Lisa. We're all going to be fine."

"What 'bout Renée and Christina?" said Jack.

"Renée and Christina have already been vaccinated, so they'll be fine too. But we have to get to the cold storage room right away and use those vaccines. Especially you, Jack; your injuries have made you highly vulnerable to T-Virus infection, so we have to get you treated first."

Jack nodded, relief spreading through his heart and mind. He was going to receive the T-Virus vaccine, so he wasn't going to turn into a zombie after all; he was going to be fine, just like Dr Harlech said.

Soon they came to a heavy-looking door on the left-hand side of the corridor. It looked like a vault, but was marked "Cold Storage". Frost was forming around the edges of the door.

"Here we are," said Dr Harlech.

She pulled the door open and stepped back as a blast of arctic air escaped from the room. Once the cold mist had cleared, she stepped inside the room. Jack and the others watched at the doorway as she walked across the room to a glass-fronted cabinet, her shoes leaving little indentations in the thick layer of frost that covered the floor.

Inside the cabinet was a multitude of glass tubes, their contents brightly coloured; each one was carefully labelled. Dr Harlech selected six of these with great care. She then opened a drawer and took out six small, sealed boxes; these were carefully laid on the icy floor, one next to each glass tube.

"Okay, Jack," she called, her teeth chattering in the cold. "You first."

Jack stepped into the cold storage room, automatically rolling up his left shirt sleeve. Dr Harlech opened one of the small boxes and took out a hypodermic needle. Jack watched in trepidation as the needle pierced the top of the glass tube, drawing the liquid into the syringe. A few drops spurted out of the needle's end as Dr Harlech finished preparing it for use.

"Ready?" she said, pouring a clear solution onto a piece of cotton wool and dabbing at Jack's upper arm.

Jack nodded, his wide eyes fixed firmly on the needle.

"It's okay, Jack, don't be frightened. One little scratch and then you'll be just fine, I promise," said Dr Harlech gently. "Okay, here we go…"

Jack flinched as the needle sank into his skin, and he screwed up his face in pain as the syringe's contents were discharged into his arm.

"There," said Dr Harlech, removing the needle and rolling Jack's shirt sleeve back down. "All done. Lisa, you next."

Lisa was remarkably brave, thought Jack, given that he knew she was mortally afraid of needles - she barely gave more than a slight whimper as Dr Harlech administered the T-Virus vaccine. Amber, on the other hand, gave an ear-splitting screech as the needle pierced her skin, and didn't stop yelling until it was out again.

Dr Harlech opened the box containing the fourth needle, took off her lab coat and dabbed at her upper left arm with cotton wool, then prepared the vaccine for herself. She steadied her nerves and her hand as she positioned the needle, then closed her eyes tightly and depressed the syringe's plunger, wincing only slightly when she eventually removed the needle.

"Now, I need someone to look after the remaining two doses for me," she said solemnly, picking up the two remaining doses of vaccine and the two hypodermic boxes. "Amber, put those in your briefcase and for crying out loud be careful with them. Whatever you do, you mustn't damage them, or Lisa's parents won't have vaccines. Understood?"

Amber understood. The vaccines were stowed in the briefcase along with the broken camera and the collection of incriminating documents. Dr Harlech cleared up the used syringes, cotton wool and empty glass tubes, and disposed of them neatly in a frost-covered yellow plastic container which sat in the far corner of the room. Just visible beneath the frost were the words "Clinical Waste Only".

"Looks like we're good to go, then," said Renée.

"Everybody feeling okay?" said Dr Harlech, donning her lab coat again. "Nobody feeling faint?"

"No," said Lisa. "I'm fine."

"Me too," said Amber.

"Yeah, fine," said Jack. "Just fine."

"Then we'll continue."  
----------

All along the corridor came the sound of doors opening and closing.

"Mom?"

"Elizabeth?"

"_Señora_ Hartley?"

"Uh… Lisa's mom? Where are you?"

Footsteps back and forth, voices calling up and down the corridor, doors opening and slamming closed again.

"Dr Hartley?

"Jonathan?"

"Dad?"

"Hey, Lisa's dad? Are you there?"

The calls went unanswered, and the five survivors met up again outside the cold storage room.

"We've checked all the rooms we missed out earlier. No sign of them," reported Amber.

"But this place is really big," Renée added hurriedly, seeing Lisa's face fall. "There are still plenty of places they could be, right, Dr H?"

"Yes, we've got a little way to go yet. There are some more offices up ahead - they're bound to be in one of those," said Dr Harlech.

"What if they ain't there?" said Jack, voicing the question that the others had been secretly thinking but hadn't dared to ask. "What happen if we no can find 'em? What we gonna do then?"

"Then I'll search the rest of the building alone," said Lisa bravely. "I know it's dangerous, but I couldn't live with myself knowing that I left my parents to die in this town. I _have_ to find my mom and dad, and I don't care if it takes me all… night…"

Lisa yawned suddenly, though she had enough presence of mind to cover her hand with her mouth.

"You look exhausted, Lisa," said Amber. "And you too, Jack. I know I am - I haven't slept properly for three days."

"Me either. What time is it, anyway?" said Dr Harlech.

"Way past their bedtime, by the look of it," said Renée. "Way past mine too, come to think of it. I haven't had more than about four hours' sleep since the start of my mission. No rest for the wicked, I guess."

"Oh well. Never mind, Lisa. Only a few more rooms to go, then we can get out of town and you can sleep all you want," Amber reassured her. "I'm sure we'll find them down here somewhere."

"I hope you're right," said Lisa, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah," said Amber. "Just keep moving; you look like you'll fall asleep on your feet if you stay still a moment longer."

Lisa nodded, and kept walking. She'd never felt so tired in her whole life; her head was heavy, her eyelids drooping, and every part of her body was desperate for sleep, but she knew she had no choice but to keep going.

It was probably well past midnight by now, but she didn't dare look at her watch; if she did, it would only remind her that she should be asleep by now, and then she'd feel even sleepier. Some things were better left unknown.

Jack was finding it even harder to keep walking. He'd sincerely believed that the T-Virus vaccine would have made him feel better, but if anything, he felt even worse. His head was pounding, he felt sick and exhausted, and the throbbing, burning pain in his arm was worse than ever.

Every step required more and more effort and coordination. It was almost like being drunk and having the hangover at the same time, except the hangover was magnified about a hundred times.

His breath caught in his chest, and stuck there. He coughed hard, gasping for breath, but the air felt thin, as though it didn't contain enough oxygen to fill his lungs. His head felt lighter than the air he was trying to breathe, and his body felt numb - all he could feel was the pain that raged through his arm.

Struggling to breathe against the sudden constriction of his chest, Jack saw the world beginning to turn grey. Through the silver haze, he saw Lisa turn to look at him.

"Jack, are you okay?" she said.

And now there was no hiding it any more. Despite knowing that they would have to shoot him if they became infected - despite knowing that Lisa would die if he died - he couldn't keep it from them any longer.

"Lise? Amber? I - I dunt feel so good," said Jack weakly, and then consciousness escaped him. He slumped forward and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"Jack! Oh no, not again!" cried Lisa, rushing to his side and trying to pick him up. "Come on, Jack, wake up! Wake up!"

Amber, hearing Lisa's cries, went back to help her. Her heart sank when she saw that Jack had collapsed again, but she didn't say anything. She attempted to lift him, but without success; Jack probably wasn't heavy under normal conditions, but right now he was one hundred and twenty-six pounds of dead weight. Somehow, though, they managed to get him to his feet and carried on walking, supporting Jack's weight between them.

They'd walked only a few yards when suddenly Amber stopped, her head jerking up automatically at the sound of ghostly moans in the distance. A group of shadowy figures were just visible further down the dark corridor.

Her heart began to race as adrenaline filled her veins, and panic filled her thoughts for about the hundredth time that day.

"Oh, no," she muttered. "No, not now… someone tell me that's not what I think it is!"

Dr Harlech had stopped too, and she didn't look at all happy.

"I hate to tell you, Amber, but that's exactly what you think it is," she said uneasily. "Have we got enough bullets to take them down?"

"Not really," said Amber, checking her gun with her free hand. "Renée?"

"I'm running a little low, I must admit," said the mercenary. "And I only have one spare clip."

"Memory doesn't serve me that well, because I didn't spend a huge amount of time down here, but I'm sure there's another way through the lab complex," said Dr Harlech, eyeing the zombies nervously. "Maybe we should turn back."

The others nodded, and they turned round.

"Actually," said Renée, pointing to the other end of the corridor, "I don't think that's such a good idea…"

More stumbling, groaning figures were staggering towards them, their rotting arms outstretched towards their prey. There were almost as many here as there were coming towards them from the other direction.

"Where did _they_ come from?" said Lisa, almost hysterical with fear.

"I don't know and I don't care! We have to get out of here!" said Renée, looking around hastily for a side corridor they could escape into. There wasn't one, nor were there any other ways to seek refuge from the undead.

"There's no way out!" cried Lisa. "We're trapped!"

"What are we going to do?" said Amber.

Dr Harlech was staring at the floor. Her lips were moving almost imperceptibly. Suddenly, she dropped to her knees, her head still bowed low.

"I agree, Clarissa, religion _is _a great comfort in times of stress, but now is not the time!" said Amber. "We need your help!"

The scientist said nothing; she was running her hands along a thin, almost indiscernibly faint line which ran across the floor in front of her. It looked like a join in the floor, with one side slightly higher than the other.

"What in the blue hell are you _doing_?" said Renée incredulously. "You're not praying, and you're certainly not helping - so what _are_ you doing?"

"Getting us out of immediate danger," grunted Dr Harlech, who was tugging at the raised edge of the floor, her face reddening with the exertion. "Some help would be nice…"

The zombies were getting closer, their moans growing louder and more urgent as they drew nearer to the little group of frightened survivors. Lisa and Amber watched with bated breath as Renée and Dr Harlech apparently struggled to pull up an entire section of the floor. At last, their efforts paid off; they lifted up a large square hatch which until now had been perfectly concealed in the flooring, and opened it up wide, revealing a dark hole underneath and a metal ladder leading down.

"Quick, get down there!" urged Dr Harlech. "They're getting closer!"

The others didn't waste any time in following her advice. Amber climbed down into the hole, first dropping the briefcase down into the unknown depths, then returning her gun to its holster and clambering down the ladder.

Renée dragged Lisa towards the opening in the floor and made her go first; trembling with fright, the teenage girl gripped the ladder and scurried down it as fast as she could. Renée followed her, grasping the sides of the ladder and letting herself slide down it at full speed.

Now only Dr Harlech was left now, looking down anxiously at Jack's inert form and wondering how on earth she was going to get him down the ladder. The answer to this problem came when Renée's voice floated up out of the darkness below.

"Dr H! Throw Jack down to us! We'll catch him!"

"Uh, all right," said Dr Harlech, gingerly moving the unconscious Jack towards the hole and then shoving him in, as gently as she could. She saw him fall lifelessly down into the gloom, almost expecting to hear the crack of broken bones somewhere below as he hit the floor, but there was only a soft thud.

"Got him!"

Dr Harlech, pleased by this news, darted into the hole. The zombies were almost on top of her now, and one or two of them were bending down towards her, reaching out to grab her.

As one of the zombie scientists snatched clumsily at her and missed, something slipped out of the dead man's coat pocket and fell past her. She didn't bother to look and see what it was; she was more concerned with sealing off their escape route from the zombies.

Grabbing the handle on the underside of the hatch, she pulled it back after her, slamming it tightly shut and closing off the last remnants of light illuminating the escape route.

Feeling for the ladder rung by rung now that the darkness was closing in around her, Dr Harlech climbed down cautiously, down and down until to her relief, the soles of her shoes finally touched solid concrete.

"Where are we?" said Renée, from somewhere in the pitch blackness.

"This is the old underground bomb shelter," Dr Harlech said, and her words echoed a little. "One of the researchers told me that Umbrella built it for its employees during the Cold War in case of nuclear attack. When it turned out that the Russians weren't going to irradiate everything after all, people just forgot about it. They found it again a few months ago when they were building the lab complex, but since it was too expensive to demolish and it wasn't in the way of anything important, they just built around it. Now it's part of this whole big forgotten sublevel that nobody ever uses for anything. I've been hiding down here for the past few days."

"What made you come out?" said Amber.

"I thought if I stayed put down here and waited, somebody would come for me," said Dr Harlech. "But after three days I realised that there wasn't going to be a rescue, and that if I was going to leave at all, I had to leave now. I was on my way out when I ran into that leech zombie and that - that _thing _Jack and Lisa killed."

"But that was the thirteenth floor," said Amber, her frown unseen in the darkness. "What were you doing up there? All you had to do was take the elevator up to the lobby and go outside."

"Yeah, that was the idea, but then I had a close encounter with some zombie dogs on my way out, and I broke my glasses," said Dr Harlech sheepishly. "I can't see without my glasses, so I had to go upstairs to my old office in Pharmaceutical Research and look for a spare pair. When I came out, I walked right into that thing and it started chasing me - and then just when I thought I'd given it the slip, along came a leech zombie and I had to run from that too. That's when I ran into Lisa."

"It's not really been your day, has it?" said Renée.

"I don't think it's been anybody's day today," said Amber. "Are there any lights in here?"

"Uh… hold on, I think they're over here," said Dr Harlech, feeling for the wall and running the palm of her hand across it until she came across a raised area of plastic. She pressed down on it, and suddenly there was light.

They instinctively shielded their eyes against the sudden brightness, which seemed almost blinding after the gloom that they'd become accustomed to in the passages of the lab complex. Even when the glare faded and they uncovered their eyes again, the afterglow was still there, the circle of bright light imprinted on their vision in purple.

When that faded too, they looked around. Their new environment was a large, bare concrete room with a solitary light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The paint had peeled from the mould-speckled walls long ago, and the white flakes covered the floor like dry snow.

Amber sniffed the damp air.

"Yuck," she said. "It smells awful down here."

"Well, it smells like rotting corpses upstairs," said Renée, putting Jack down on the floor. She took the backpack from his shoulders, gently lifted up his head, and placed the backpack underneath him like a pillow. "I don't know about you, but I prefer the mould. At least the mould doesn't try to bite your head off."

Amber had to admit that Renée had a point. At least this place was safe; minutes ago, their only option involved being chewed and swallowed, but now they had found sanctuary in this place - an impenetrable stronghold, sheltering them from the zombies that haunted the corridors above their heads.

And…

Amber blinked, unable to believe her eyes. There was a door on the other side of the room. It was covered in a layer of rust that was probably thicker than the actual door, true, but it was still a door. She didn't know what was beyond it, but for now it represented hope and the prospect, however small, of escape.

"Where does that lead?" she said, pointing to it.

"I'm afraid I don't know," said Dr Harlech. "I couldn't get it to open."

Amber tugged hard at the door. She was expecting it not to budge an inch, but the door surprised her by opening wide, almost knocking her off her feet while deafening her with the squeal of rusty hinges. Wiping rust marks from her hands, she looked inside.

"Goodness. Your luck is much better than mine, Amber. I couldn't get it to move so much as a millimetre," said Dr Harlech. "What's down there?"

"Uh… steps. A lot of steps," reported Amber. "It's dark too. I can't see much. But if someone gives me the torch, I'll go down and investigate."

"Think it might be an escape route?" said Renée hopefully, as Lisa handed the torch to Amber.

"Given our luck, probably not, but I'm happy to be proved wrong," said Amber, switching the torch back on. "Renée, you and Dr H stay here with the kids, and I'll go and see what's down there. If the zombies didn't make it this far down, then I doubt that there'll be anything nasty at the bottom, but it's best if you guys just stay put for now. At least you know it's safe here."

"Roger that," said Renée, and sat down. "We'll sit tight until you come back."

"You _will _come back, won't you?" added Dr Harlech.

"Of course I will," said Amber. "Just take care of Jack and Lisa. I'll be back soon."

She stepped through the door, and the others watched her gradually descend into the unknown recesses of the world beyond the rusted door. Before long, the torch's glow was out of sight, and so was Amber.

Silence descended.

"So you think she'll make it back?" said Renée.

"She'll make it," said Dr Harlech.

"What if there are spiders down there? I don't know if you know this, but Amber's terrified of spiders," said Renée. "One glimpse of them and she freaks out."

"She'll make it," Dr Harlech repeated. "I know she will."

Renée decided that it was no use pursuing that particular line of conversation any further, so she tried to think of something else to say to ward off boredom. Nothing particular sprang to mind at first, but then something drew her eye to the foot of the ladder.

"Hey, what's that?"

"What's what?" said Dr Harlech, looking around.

"Over there by the ladder. It looks like a notebook or something."

Dr Harlech went over to the ladder and stooped to pick up the object. It was indeed a notebook, and she realised that this was the object that had fallen out of the zombie scientist's coat pocket.

She sat down beside Renée and flipped the notebook open. It was a fairly ordinary notebook from the company's stationery department - the cover was black and marked with the Umbrella logo. Inside were pages filled with small, meticulously neat handwriting and startlingly accurate line drawings.

For want of anything else to do while they waited for Amber's return, she started to read the contents of the notebook.

It's very exciting to be part of the company's bioweapons programme at last. I've heard rumours about it for some time, but never did I imagine that I might actually become part of it. The possibilities are endless… viruses to utterly wipe out enemy forces or to create superhuman warriors impervious to bullets, grenades, and even death itself.

I've conducted some rudimentary research into the programme so far, and it makes for interesting reading. This is what I've learned so far about the products of the bioweapons programme:

1. The T-Virus

Created by Dr James Marcus on September 19th, 1977. The T-Virus has the ability to transform living things into deadly bioweapons. Insects grow to several times their normal size, amphibian subjects experience abnormal tongue growth and increased agility, and mammals develop an insatiable thirst for blood (see Fig. 1). Humans infected with the virus become zombie-like creatures with cannibalistic tendencies, motivated only by the need to feed. In some instances, it is possible for humans with the suitable genetic makeup to mutate into a being known as a "Tyrant" (see Fig. 2). The main problem with the T-Virus is that the creatures are primitive, stupid and uncontrollable - they are of limited use as bioweapons.

Symptoms of T-Virus infection include headaches, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, constant hunger and thirst, and extreme pain and itchiness. It can take as little as 1 hour to succumb to the infection, or as long as 3 days, depending on the subject. A vaccine is being developed for the T-Virus to counteract accidental infection and should be ready by the end of the month.

2. The G-Virus

Little is known about the G-Virus, other than the fact that it is being developed by Dr William Birkin, a protégé of Dr Marcus. It is believed to be near completion. Some early samples of the virus are being studied, and it appears that among the properties the virus is believed to have is the power of regeneration, and the ability to implant embryonic copies of itself into other beings. Other than that, we know virtually nothing about what the virus does.

Symptoms of G-Virus infection are currently unknown, as the virus is incomplete. A vaccine may or may not be in development. More will be known when Dr Birkin's findings are made known to the company.

3. The T-Nemesis Virus

A variant of the T-Virus developed specifically by Umbrella's European branch to remedy some of the T-Virus' shortcomings. At present, only one surviving test subject exists - the subject's codename is "Nemesis" (see Fig. 3). "Nemesis" is an extraordinary creation, far superior to the Tyrant in every respect; its strength, speed, resilience and tenacity are quite remarkable, and its intelligence is much greater than that of any other bioweapon previously created. I think the only thing that could possibly wipe out "Nemesis" would be a direct hit from a nuclear missile. Yet "Nemesis" is still not perfect. There may be a future problem with excessive mutation, and "Nemesis" is as yet unable to regenerate. Work is still underway on the T-Nemesis virus.

Symptoms of T-Nemesis Virus infection are identical to the symptoms of T-Virus infection - headaches, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, etc - making it difficult to distinguish between the two at first until the mutation begins. Depending on the subject, the infection can take anything from 1 to 72 hours to fully take hold. A vaccine for the T-Nemesis virus has been devised but not yet put into production. Instructions and equipment for producing the T-Nemesis vaccine are available for use in this facility.

Dr Harlech stared at the illustration which accompanied the passage. It depicted, in gruesome detail, a huge figure in a leather trench coat with a tentacle snaking out of one arm and a twisted parody of a human face.

"Nemesis?" she said to herself. "Is that what's chasing us?"

"Dr Harlech? Why won't the vaccine work?"

"Pardon?" said Dr Harlech, looking up from the notebook. Lisa was sitting next to Jack, still trying to shake him awake. Dr Harlech had never seen anyone look so inconsolable before.

"Why won't the vaccine work?" said Lisa again. "I thought it would make us all better, but he's still sick… were we too late?"

Dr Harlech bit her lip, the moral agony of the situation twisting like a knife in her chest. She could lie and guarantee Jack's safety. She could state plainly that he was going to die. She could guess either way, or admit that she had no idea what was going to happen next.

She settled for complete honesty.

"I really don't know, Lisa. I don't even know what happened to him in the first place. Maybe I should take a look at him."

Lisa nodded, and moved out of the way. Dr Harlech set the notebook aside and crawled over to Jack. She checked his vital signs, one by one, opening his eyelids, feeling for his pulse.

"He's unconscious. I'm not sure if he'll wake up or not. His pulse is very weak - too weak - and he looks like he's having trouble breathing. Pupils are still responding to light. Minimal response to pain. What happened to him, anyway?"

"He was trying to save my life earlier today and that big zombie hurt him," said Lisa. "Its tentacle caught him across the arm and cut him pretty badly."

"That big zombie is a monster called the Nemesis. And I don't think it's dead. Which arm?" said Dr Harlech.

"The right one," said Lisa.

"Did he mention any symptoms?" said Dr Harlech, as she began rolling up Jack's right shirt sleeve.

"He complained about pain in his arm a few times, and he lost his memory for a short period. He collapsed once before this, too, but he woke up a little while later," said Lisa. "You mentioned the Nemesis when you were reading that notebook - what did it say, exactly?"

"It says that there's another version of the T-Virus, and it's called the T-Nemesis Virus. It created the Nemesis, and it turns anyone infected into another one just like it. Jack must have the T-Nemesis Virus," said Dr Harlech, unwinding the bandage around Jack's arm. "My goodness, will you look at his arm? It's a mess."

Jack's arm was indeed a mess. It was swollen and mottled pink, with dark purple bruising extending almost to his shoulder. The wound had stopped bleeding, but yellowish pus and clear liquid was seeping from it.

"Is there a cure?" said Lisa faintly.

"Yes, there is. It says that the vaccine can be created here in this facility. They have the instructions and the equipment needed to make the vaccine. All we have to do is go upstairs and find out where they keep them," said Dr Harlech. "Pass me the notebook, Lisa. I want to see if there are any more notes on the next page."

Lisa found the notebook and slid it across the floor to Dr Harlech.

"Thanks," said Dr Harlech, and she turned the page. Seconds later, her mouth dropped open.

4. The L-Virus

Created on February 22nd 1998, by Dr Jonathan Hartley and Dr Alistair Morton. The L-Virus is the focus of the project to which I have been assigned. The L-Virus is essentially a more advanced version of the T-Virus with the regenerative qualities of the G-Virus, which has been fused with the T-Nemesis virus to take on the desired characteristics of "Nemesis" while avoiding any inconvenient further mutations.With the L-Virus, we have created the ultimate bioweapon - the perfect successor to "Nemesis". (See Fig. 4)

Visually, the subject is identical to "Nemesis" but stronger, smarter, faster and more agile than his predecessor, and quite remarkably cunning. In combat testing, the subject hid or feigned death on several occasions while its health regenerated, before returning much later to wreak vengeance on its opponents. It is far tougher than anything ever created by Umbrella - I don't think even a direct hit from a nuclear missile could truly kill this subject.

Symptoms of L-Virus infection are initially identical to the symptoms of T-Nemesis Virus infection preceding mutation - headaches, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, etc. However, some additional symptoms have been observed, including temporary amnesia and loss of consciousness on multiple occasions. Another quite extraordinary symptom is the ability to repel other zombies - it is as if the zombies are somehow scared of the subject and are unwilling to go near it. The L-Virus is fast-acting and can transform the subject from human to bioweapon in the space of just a few hours.

One of the L-Project researchers, Dr Janice Redmond, is said to be attempting to develop a vaccine to the L-Virus, but it is clear to everyone else on the project that she is wasting her time; the L-Virus was specifically designed to be immune to any kind of vaccine.

Beside these notes was a drawing identical to the one on the previous page - the same enormous figure in black, with a tentacle twisting out from one arm and a snarl on its deformed face. Her stomach turned at the sight of it.

"Lisa," she said, swallowing. "Did you say that Jack lost his memory?"

The younger girl nodded.

"And the zombies went away from him when he came out of Dr Morton's office, didn't they?"

Lisa nodded again, and Dr Harlech began shaking her head from side to side. She could feel an old, unpleasantly familiar feeling welling up in her heart - the same feeling she used to get at the hospital, whenever she had to break bad news to a patient's family.

She could see how much the girl cared for her friend, and she could hardly bring herself to say it. However, she knew that she couldn't possibly keep the news from Lisa and let her live with the false hope of Jack's possible recovery.

"Lisa, I - I have some bad news," she said, hating herself for every word.

Lisa went pale.

"It's about Jack, isn't it?" she said, clearly dreading what she was about to hear.

Dr Harlech nodded regretfully.

"Lisa, Jack doesn't have the T-Nemesis Virus. I'm afraid it's a lot worse than that."

"How much worse?" said Lisa, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

"That creature wasn't the Nemesis. It was something different, something even worse than the Nemesis. The giant zombie that hurt Jack was created by the virus that they were working on in this lab complex."

Dr Harlech swallowed again, trying to rid herself of the lump that was forming in her throat. She looked down, unable to bear the look on Lisa's face any longer.

"It's called the L-Virus. And I don't know how to tell you this, but…"

She sighed heavily.

"Jack's infected with the L-Virus. And there's - there's no cure. Lisa, I'm so sorry, but there's nothing we can do to help him. He's going to die."


	37. The Renegades

****

37: The Renegades

Tuesday 29th September 1998

There was a moment of grim silence. Then Lisa started to cry and she buried her face in Jack's chest, her small frame shaking with uncontrollable grief.

"Oh no... no, no, no... this can't be happening!" she wailed. "You can't die, Jack! Not now! Not after all we've been through! Jack, you can't be dying, you can't, you just _can't_! It's not fair! I don't want you to die!"

Renée and Dr Harlech watched with heavy hearts as Lisa sobbed bitterly over her friend's lifeless body. Twenty-four hours ago neither of them had even heard of Jack and Lisa, but their shared quest for survival had brought them all so close together that watching Jack die and Lisa's heart break was almost more than they could bear.

"This is all my fault," said Dr Harlech wretchedly. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt anybody."

"It's all right, Dr H," said Renée, clearing her throat and blinking a few times. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

She sniffed, and glanced at her standard military issue watch. The glass had broken at some point after her arrival. It had cracked so extensively that it was difficult to see where the hands were on the dial, but she could just about make out the time underneath the shattered glass. It was 1.35 am. It had been tomorrow for over an hour, and none of them had even noticed.

Renée sighed, and stared down at the floor.  
_  
They said this mission was going to be short. It's been almost three days now. I should be in bed, not stuck deep underground in some mouldy concrete rat-hole watching one of my friends turning into a monster...  
_  
A single tear was trickling down her cheek. Renée wiped it away quickly before the others noticed, and smacked herself in the face.  
_  
Get a grip, Renée. Real mercenaries don't cry.  
_  
Renée realised that she'd just had a Christina thought. It was exactly what her comrade would have said, were she here. She sighed again, and stared up at the ceiling.  
_  
Guess that makes two of us, Jack…  
_  
Having comprehensively soaked Jack's shirt in tears, Lisa raised her head and fixed her gaze on Dr Harlech.

"There has to be a cure," she said desperately. "There just _has _to be!"

"I'm sorry, Lisa," said Dr Harlech. "The report in the notebook says that there's no cure. The L-Virus was specifically designed to be incurable. Janice was wasting her time."

"But there must be _something _we can do!" said Lisa.

Dr Harlech leaned forward and took Lisa gently by the shoulders.

"The only thing you can do for Jack is to kill him before the virus takes him," she told her. "If you don't, then he'll mutate into another monster, just like the one we pushed out of the window."

"I can't kill him," whispered Lisa, tears still streaming down her face.

"I know you care about him, Lisa, but you have to," said Dr Harlech.

"I can't do it," Lisa repeated. "I can't kill him."

"Do you want me to do it, Lisa?" offered Renée. "I can if you want. One shot in the back of the neck, I guarantee he won't feel a thing - "

"No!" shrieked Lisa, so suddenly that Dr Harlech and Renée jumped. "Don't you dare! If either of you hurt him, I swear I'll - I'll kill you both!"

"But Lisa, he's dying anyway!" protested Renée. "Look, I don't want him to die any more than you do, but Dr Harlech's right - if you don't kill him now, he'll turn into a monster and then he'll kill us all!"

"I don't care what he's turning into! I can't shoot my best friend!" yelled Lisa.

"Remember what happened to Marco - " began Renée.

"What happened to Marco was _different_! He wanted to be shot rather than turn into a zombie, and Christina made sure he got his wish! _I _didn't make that choice for him, and I never would have! It's not our place to decide who lives and who dies!"

"L-Lise?"

Lisa jumped at the sound of Jack's voice. She looked down at Jack and saw his eyelids flutter open. He tried to raise his head, but gave up and let his head fall back onto the backpack beneath him.

"Hey, Jack," said Lisa, doing her best to smile.

"Where we be? Did we escape yet?" said Jack, looking around as best he could.

"No. We're in an old bomb shelter underneath the labs," Lisa told him. "We're safe here. Amber's gone to look for a way out."

"We - we still gonna get outta here, right?" said Jack weakly.

"Yes, we are," said Lisa, trying hard not to cry again. "We're going to escape. All of us are going to escape."

"I ain't so sure 'bout that, Lise," said Jack. "I dunt think the vaccine worked on me…"

"No, Jack, the vaccine worked fine. The problem is, you don't have the T-Virus," said Lisa, biting down on her lip. "The monster that infected you was created by the L-Virus. It's the L-Virus that's making you sick. And Dr H says there isn't a cure. She says you're going to die and that I should kill you before you turn into a monster - but I'm not going to!"

"Lise," said Jack hoarsely. "Dunt. Just kill me."

"No!"

"I dunt wanna turn into a monster. I dunt want to end up like that thing."

"You're not going to, Jack!" said Lisa fiercely. "I won't let you! You're going to be all right, you're going to beat this virus, and - and get better, and we're going to find my parents, and w-we'll all escape together, and - and then everything will be okay again!"

"No," said Jack. "I know I gonna die. No point tryin' to tell me otherwise. But Lise, there be somethin' I wanna tell you. I know I shoulda told you a long time ago, an' I be sorry I dint, but b'fore - b'fore I die, I want you to know it."

And suddenly he wasn't scared any more. He knew it was too late to say it now, but nevertheless he felt that it needed to be said.

"I love you, Lise," he said.

Tears poured down Lisa's cheeks. Hearing him saying it had made her realise, at long last, that she felt the same. Only now, when she was about to lose him forever, had she discovered how much she needed him. And it was far too late.

"I love you too, Jack!" she sobbed. "I wish I'd told you before… I'm so sorry…"

"Dunt worry, Lise. I know now. I guess I can die happy," said Jack, managing a weak smile.

Ignoring the excruciating pain in his arm, he raised his hand and moved some hair out of Lisa's eyes.

"You be beautiful, Lise. You know that, dunt you?" he said, stroking her cheek.

Lisa leaned down until her mouth was just level with his, and she was about to kiss him when Dr Harlech grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and pulled her away.

"Don't!" she cried. "Kiss him and you'll catch it too! The viruses can be transferred by saliva - that's why anybody bitten by a zombie gets infected!"

"I don't care!" said Lisa tearfully. "I don't want to live if he dies!"

"Lise, no," protested Jack. "You gotta get outta here! I may be done for but you can still be okay. Dunt die 'cause of me. I want you to live."

"We made a promise, Jack," said Lisa, clutching Jack's hand tightly. "Where you go, I go. You live, I live. You die - I die too. We escape together or not at all."

"But Lise - "

"But nothing. A promise is a promise. Let's just hope I don't have to keep it," said Lisa, stroking Jack's forehead. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and his hair was damp with sweat. "Now get some rest, Jack. And don't give up. Don't let this virus beat you. Keep fighting it. You can beat it, I know you can."

"'kay," said Jack weakly, and closed his eyes again. Moments later, he fell into a troubled sleep.

"Lisa - " began Dr Harlech.

"I don't care what you two say, I am _not_ going to kill him," said Lisa shortly, glaring at the two women as she stroked Jack's forehead. "And I'm not going to sit here and watch him die. We've been through too much together for me to give up on him now."

She sat by Jack's side, listening to his ragged, shallow breaths and the sound of her own heartbeat, and tried to remember everything that she'd learned about the outbreak, the viruses, the monsters and the laboratories. She began to wish that she'd asked to look after Amber's briefcase. If she had, she could have gone through all the paperwork that they'd found, and maybe she could have found a solution to this problem.  
_  
Designed to be incurable... no vaccine... Janice... _

_Wait - Janice!_

"Dr Harlech?" said Lisa. "What did you mean when you said Janice was wasting her time?" 

"When I read the section on the L-Virus in this notebook, it said that Janice Redmond was allegedly trying to develop a vaccine for it," said Dr Harlech. "But even if it was true and she was trying to do such a thing, it wouldn't have worked - if the L-Virus was engineered to be incurable, then no vaccine on earth could possibly affect it. Why do you ask?"

She saw the glimmerings of an idea in Lisa's eyes, and instantly she knew what Lisa was thinking.

"Oh, no. No you don't," she warned. "Don't even_ think_ about it. You are _not _going up there all by yourself to look for a nonexistent cure. Absolutely not. You are staying here with us until Amber gets back."

"No, I'm not," said Lisa sharply.

"Oh yes you are, young lady," said Dr Harlech sternly. "You're going to stay right here and do as you're told or - "

She stopped. She didn't really have much experience in dealing with anyone younger than twenty - most of the children and teenagers she had met had been so ill that behavioural problems had not been an issue. She wasn't really sure what to do in situations like these, although some sort of discipline was clearly in order. She tried to think of a threat dire enough to make the girl do as she was told.

"Or I'll tell Amber," she finished. "And then you'll be in big trouble!"

This did not have the desired effect.

"Okay," said Lisa, with a shrug. "Go right ahead. But first you'll have to go down into that dark, _creepy _tunnel to find her and bring her back here. And since one of you has to stay and look after Jack, there'll be nobody to go after me if I decide to make a run for it while you're gone. Besides, what's Amber going to do about it?"

Dr Harlech grimaced; she knew that Lisa was right. It was embarrassing to be outwitted by someone who was still in high school.

"Look, Dr H, you might as well accept that I am going up there, whether you like it or not," said Lisa. "Now please tell me where I'm supposed to be going and what I'm looking for."

Dr Harlech was about to protest, but then she saw the younger girl's expression, and relented.

"If there _was_ such a thing as a vaccine, or even the beginnings of some vaccine research that we could work with, then they would probably be in Dr Redmond's office and private laboratory, right at the end of the corridor upstairs," she said. "Her rooms are password protected, but they gave the lab to her assistant after the… _incident_. Her assistant was a friend of mine and he was kind enough to pass on the entry codes to me so I could use her office if I needed a quiet place to write lab reports. I never did, but I still have the codes."

"The - the incident?" said Lisa.

"You don't want to know," said Dr Harlech abruptly. "Really. Now, the door code is 68578. If you need to check her computer, her username is RedJanice and I think her password is still Renegade. I think that's everything you need to know. Can you remember all that?"

Lisa nodded.

"Good. Now you have to work out how you're going to get past those zombies on your own. You can't just rush in and assume everything will work out the way you want it to. You need a plan if you're going to last more than ten minutes on your own," said Renée.

"I know," said Lisa.

"Renée, perhaps you should go with her," Dr Harlech prompted. "It's not safe for Lisa to go on her own."

"No, I can't. I have to stay here and guard you both," said Renée.

"Then I'll go with her," said Dr Harlech.

"No, Dr H, you need to stay here and look after Jack," said Lisa. "He needs you more than I do right now."

"But you can't do this alone, Lisa," said Dr Harlech. "You saw how many zombies were out there, and all you have is a handgun. How are you going to take them on all by yourself?"

Renée thought for a moment.

"Here, take this," she said, shrugging off the strap that suspended her assault rifle from her shoulder. She picked up the rifle and presented it to Lisa, who took it carefully. "You know how to use one of these things?"

Lisa shook her head vigorously.

"Jeez, what do they teach you kids in school these days?" said Renée disapprovingly. "Not survival skills, that's for sure. When I was a kid, everybody in school was taught what to do in case of an emergency, and that wasn't very long ago, either."

"Same here. Personally, I blame it on the lack of nuclear testing," said Dr Harlech. "Not that ducking and covering would have made the slightest bit of difference, mind you. We'd all have been vaporised anyway if someone had really dropped a nuke on us. Thank God for Reagan and the fall of Communism, that's all I can say."

"Nothing like the latter half of the Cold War to put some backbone into America's children," agreed Renée. "Now, Lisa, I'd better teach you how to use this thing."

Lisa nodded.

"Right," said Renée firmly. "_This_ is an AK-47. Nice Russian-made rifle. It's pretty old, and not standard-issue any more; most of our unit uses M4-A1s, but Christina and I were at the back of the queue when they were dishing out the weapons at the start of the mission, and they were a little short on M4-A1s, so we ended up with these. It's no real hardship, though - these are the rifles we first trained with, so we're both used to them. Christina actually prefers these to the newer models, and who are we to argue with a cold-blooded killing-machine… anyway, you put your hands _here _and _here_, and then…"

Lisa listened intently as Renée explained how the rifle worked. The mercenary gave the younger girl a quick demonstration, then handed it back to her with a grin.

"Got that?"

Lisa managed a weak smile.

"Excellent. Now remember what I said - keep it on manual, and fire short, sharp bursts to stop the barrel from overheating," said Renée. "Oh, and you'll probably need this, too…"

She took a spare ammunition clip from her utility belt and gave it to Lisa, who stuffed it into her pocket as best she could.

"Thanks, Renée," she said gratefully.

"No problem. Good luck, kiddo," said Renée, ruffling the younger girl's hair affectionately.

Lisa nodded, and turned towards the ladder. She took hold of the rungs and had just started climbing when Dr Harlech called out:

"Lisa? If Jack starts to change while you're gone - ?"

The question was left hanging in the air. Lisa looked at the two women's anxious, expectant faces, and sighed.

"Then do what you have to," she said. "But only if you have to."

They nodded in agreement.

"Please take care of Jack for me."

"We will, Lisa," Dr Harlech assured her.

"Right," said Lisa, and her expression suddenly changed from one of hopeless despair to one of grim determination. "Here we go…"

She climbed up the ladder, feeling Renée's assault rifle bouncing gently against her hip as she moved. Her heart was filled once more with a flicker of hope. Somewhere up there was a vaccine, and she intended to find it.

Renée and Dr Harlech watched her climb up, privately wondering all the while if this would be the last time they saw Lisa alive. They saw her push open the metal hatch with a certain degree of difficulty, and then she crawled up through the opening and out of their line of sight. The hatch slammed back down again with the terrible finality of a gunshot, and then she was gone.

xxxxxxxxxx

So they'd made it this far. Interesting. Of course, they wouldn't get much further.

The boy was dying. The girl would probably be dead soon; she was the type of person who relied on other people to look after them because they were too weak to look after themselves. Once he was dead, the odds that she would want to join him were high. Her parents couldn't possibly have survived the outbreak, and with her beloved friend gone, she would have no reason to carry on living.

The cop was feeble and cowardly, and would probably die too. There were giant spiders around, so she would almost certainly go to pieces and abandon the group as soon as she ran into them. And the scientist was truly pathetic; she was even less able to take care of herself than the cop. It was a marvel that she had survived for even this long.

And then there was the young mercenary - the blithe, irreverent and absurdly juvenile soldier of fortune who owed her good fortune entirely to her colleagues and the fact that she had an assault rifle. Had she been equipped solely with a handgun and a survival knife at the start of her mission, she would be dead by now.

However, she alone among the group would survive to tell her tale. The others were as good as dead; it was barely worth keeping an eye on them. It was quite evident that none of them were going to make it out of here, alive or otherwise.

xxxxxxxxxx

Alone for the first time since her birthday party, Lisa looked around. Her head turned in sharp, quick movements as she checked the corridor, her eyes constantly darting from side to side.

The zombies were nowhere in sight. This wasn't reassuring. It just meant that they'd moved off again, possibly looking for a new source of food now that their old quarry had vanished beneath the floor. They were still around somewhere; she knew it wasn't a case of _if_ she ran into them again but _when_.

Somehow the corridor seemed far more oppressive than when she and the others had been surrounded by the undead. There was a palpable sense of menace in the air – she'd noticed it before, but she'd been in a group and this had provided some reassurance. Now, however, there was nobody to look out for her. She was on her own.

She was out of her _mind_.

But she couldn't back out now. Jack was clinging onto his life by his fingertips and she was his only hope for survival. If she failed, he would die. It was as simple as that. He needed her, now more than ever, and she couldn't let him down. And if that meant going into these dark, zombie-filled corridors alone in search of a cure that might not even exist, then that was what she had to do.

Lisa took a very deep breath, stepped forward - and was suddenly seized by panic.

Zombies!

She could see four of them, heading her way; stumbling, moaning, grisly specimens of what had once been humanity, dressed in blood-spattered lab coats, their pale and rotting faces smeared with scarlet.

"Oh, God, oh, God… I can't do this," she whimpered. "Not on my own!"

And then she remembered the words that Jack had told her at the beginning of their quest to escape Raccoon City alive:

_You keep thinkin' like that, Lise, you never gonna survive. You wanna get outta town alive? You gotta be more ruthless. You be a real sweet girl, but you gotta learn how to be cold-hearted so you can escape._

The words seemed to have been spoken a lifetime ago, but they had lost none of their impact. Remembering them made Lisa suddenly feel a little stronger, and more determined than ever to succeed in her mission.

_What am I talking about? Of course I can do this,_ she thought._ I can survive on my own. I smacked a zombie in the head with a table-leg so hard, I took its head clean off. If I can take out a zombie with a table-leg, then I can take out four with an assault rifle. I can do this..._

She looked down at the rifle she was carrying. It may have been old, but she'd seen it in action and she knew that in expert hands, it was utterly lethal; back in the cemetery it had cut down whole packs of zombies in a few seconds flat. It was certainly more than capable of taking out four zombies at a fair distance.

But as she prepared to aim at the incoming zombies, a tiny flicker of doubt made itself known once again. These people had once been human. Did any spark of humanity still reside somewhere inside those putrefying corpses? If so, would killing these things make her a murderer?

_They're murderers anyway. They made these viruses and they didn't care who died. They killed Beatrice Wrigley. They killed my classmates. They killed Charlotte. They killed Aunt Rosa. They killed Marco, and Alena, and the Street Rats. And now they're even taking Jack away from me._

There was no humanity in them. There probably never had been. And now there was nothing left of the people they had once been except bodies that refused to admit they were dead.

Anger surged through her body and exploded outwards in a scream and a volley of lead. The bullets tore through decomposing flesh, cutting the creatures to ribbons. Congealed gore sprayed across the walls and floor like paint thrown from a distance.

_You took my home, you destroyed my town, you killed my friends, you ruined my LIFE!_

The last of the zombies fell to the ground in a crumpled, bloody heap. Lisa let go of the trigger, and the bullets abruptly stopped flowing from the barrel of the gun.

Panting, she lowered the assault rifle and examined her work. All four zombies lay twitching on the ground as blood pooled beneath them. They weren't getting up again, that was for sure.

Five seconds. That was all it had taken her to utterly annihilate the zombie quartet. Five seconds of noise, chaos and bullets. Seeing once-living human beings shredded by bullets in the cemetery had been traumatic, but this time it was different; she felt oddly exhilarated.

_Now I know why Renée and Christina like being mercenaries. I feel like I could take on the whole world with one of these things,_ thought Lisa.

She shook herself. Enough self-congratulation for now. She may have triumphed on this occasion, but this was a mere skirmish in the long, hard fight for survival. There would almost certainly be much worse to come.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I spy… with my little eye… something beginning with M."

"Mould," said Dr Harlech, without much enthusiasm.

"Yep. Your turn," said Renée.

"Okay. I spy… with my little eye… something beginning with W," said the scientist, looking around. It was all for show, of course. There was very little to look around at down here in this near-featureless bunker.

"Wall," said Renée, rolling her eyes. "Like there's anything else beginning with W."

"Yes, well, we've had B for bunker, D for door, G for grenade, H for hatch, L for ladder, N - and "nothing" is cheating - R - and you can't use your own name - S for "stuff", which is dubious at best, T for "two people bored out of their skulls", U for "you suggested this game so stop complaining", and Y for "why the hell are we playing this stupid game anyway"," said Dr Harlech, a touch irritably. "We're running out of letters, not to mention stuff to look at. Not that that's terribly difficult down here."

She sighed.

"Anyway, it's your turn," she said wearily.

Renée nodded.

"Uh… I spy… with my little eye… something beginning with F."

"Floor."

"How'd you guess?"

"Secret voodoo mind powers."

"Really?"

"No."

"Oh. Your turn."

"I spy… with my little eye… something beginning with C."

"Concrete."

"Nope."

"At last, some semblance of challenge. Cement?"

"Nope."

"Ceiling?"

"Nope."

"Corpse?"

They glanced guiltily at Jack, who was still sleeping the light and troubled sleep of the mortally wounded.

"Close enough," said Dr Harlech.

"That's not funny."

"Who's laughing? Besides, you said it first."

"Good point."

They stared glumly at the opposite wall.

"I hope she comes back soon," said Dr Harlech.

"Who, Amber or Lisa?" said Renée.

"Definitely Lisa. If Amber comes back and finds out we've let Lisa go up there all alone, she's not going to be terribly happy, is she? Blast the girl… why do I always have to be the one who gets it in the neck for what other people do?"

"I guess it's your role in life."

"Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."

A gap opened up in the conversation. Not wishing to prolong the feeling of awkwardness, Renée tried to think of something to say.

"I hope she comes back soon too," was all she could come up with. "Jack's not holding up well. If she doesn't come up with something fast, then he's done for."

"He's done for anyway, Renée," said Dr Harlech flatly. "She won't find anything up there. There's nothing to find. There isn't any way of curing the L-Virus. It said so right there in those notes."

"Well, whatever she does, she doesn't have much time to do it in," said Renée. "She'd better get her running shoes on and hope to hell she finds something up there."

Dr Harlech nodded, and they let the conversation come to its natural end. They stared at the opposite wall for a while, and then allowed their gazes to be drawn to Jack.

The colour in his cheeks seemed to be fading even as they watched him. His breathing was laboured, and from the look on his face he was in a great deal of pain. A light touch on the forehead confirmed that his skin was still cold and moist with sweat. His pulse took some finding; it was so weak as to be almost undetectable.

"He's fading fast," said Dr Harlech. "I don't think he has long left."

Renée looked even more downcast than before.

"Poor kid. He doesn't deserve to go like this," she said.

"I know," said Dr Harlech. "He's a good kid, and if I thought there was anything I could do to save him, then I'd run right up there and help Lisa look for a cure. But there's nothing."

"There's still hope," said Renée. "There's always hope."

"Then let's hope I'm wrong," said Dr Harlech. "Let's hope she finds something."

She turned her face up towards the ceiling and closed her eyes.

"Hurry, Lisa," she murmured. "You don't have much time…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Still breathing heavily from the zombie incident, Lisa progressed at a sort of brisk trot, taking care to stay away from the walls and any dark shadows.

Wielding an assault rifle had chased away her nerves for a little while, but underneath the thin veneer of newfound confidence, she was still terrified. The rifle was pretty much the only thing that was keeping her fear in check.

Deadly weapon or not, she was still on her own. She could still fail. She could still die.

Propelled by barely-controlled panic and the fear of failure, Lisa hurried onwards at her in-between pace - too scared to linger too long in any one spot, but too scared to break into a dead run for fear of what she might run into.

She wanted to scream to let out all this choked-up dread, but she didn't dare make a sound. She knew all too well now that the silence, horrifying though it was, was her friend. She didn't want to attract any unwanted attention by making too much noise.

Nevertheless, she had to do something to release the nervous tension or she'd explode.

Every now and then, a thought or memory completely unrelated to what she was doing would pop into her head. Sometimes it was a nice thought, but more often than not it was something she would really rather not have remembered.

In this case, it was her parents' record collection - a cringe-making assortment of karaoke favourites from decades past. It included "Killing Me Softly", "How Deep Is Your Love", "Stand By Your Man", "It's Not Unusual" and "Dancing Queen". She'd hated every single one, with the possible exception of Tom Jones, but now Abba and the BeeGees seemed like heavenly choirs compared to this awful, awful silence.

She tried very not to hard to think about "Killing Me Softly". It had been bad enough hearing her parents singing along to it late one night after one too many bottles of wine, but in the context of a creepy lab complex full of zombies and other unknown horrors, any song entitled "Killing Me Softly" did not even bear thinking about.

And then, of course… hah. How ironic that she should think of _that_ one.

Her mouth turned up at the corners. It had been her mother's favourite, and its endless repetition during Lisa's childhood had etched it deeply into her brain. She knew every word, every note off by heart. Though she didn't particularly like it, and never had, her mouth and brain automatically sought refuge in the familiar song.

She started humming "I Will Survive" as she half-walked, half-ran, but the notes suddenly died in her throat as she saw what was waiting for her at the far end of the corridor.

It was crouching over something that looked rather like a dead zombie. Every couple of seconds there was an unpleasant squelch and a crunching sound that turned Lisa's stomach. Its back was turned, but she didn't need to be facing it to know what it was.

_Click. Click. Click. Hisssss...  
_  
It turned round to face her, and her suspicions were confirmed - it was the same kind of creature that had been in the sewers, and in the room where Almond and her mercenary friend had died. Same quadrupedal body that was all sinew and bones. Same head, with part of the skull missing and a greyish, wrinkled brain in plain sight. Same glazed white eyes, same sharp little teeth -

The same impossibly long tongue shooting out of its mouth -

Lisa tried to pull the trigger but it was already too late; the rifle was wrenched out of her grasp and thrown aside. She saw it sailing through the air like a black shiny bird and watched it for a moment, until she finally came to her senses and dived after it.

But even as she reached out to catch the assault rifle, she felt the monster's whip-like tongue lash out and wrap around her leg, pulling her back down. She cried out in pain as her head struck the corridor wall, and then again as she hit the floor face-first, and yelled a third time in horror and dismay as she saw the rifle clatter to the floor, just inches from her fingertips.

"No!"

Lisa felt herself being dragged slowly backwards, and it brought to mind the time that the leech zombie had tried to do exactly the same thing. On that occasion, Jack and Amber had come to her rescue, but this time there was nobody to help her. If she didn't find a way out of this predicament herself, then this would be the end of Lisa Angela Hartley, aged sixteen, formerly of this parish.

And she wasn't about to let that happen. Not when her assailant was a monster much stupider than she was.

"No, you don't!" she snarled, and with a near-superhuman effort she twisted her whole body round so that she was lying on her back and could see the creature. Its tongue, she could see now, was wrapped very tightly around her calf. It wasn't about to let go any time soon.

That suited her just _fine_.

Lisa moved the leg that the "Licker" - as she'd come to think of the monster - had ensnared, and forced it towards the wall, pressing her foot against the shiny metallic surface. The Licker, determined not to let go, inched forward slightly so that she couldn't escape from its grasp…

_Wham!_

Lisa's other foot slammed into the wall, pinning the Licker's tongue to it, and the Licker shrieked in pain. Its concentration was broken and its grip loosened slightly, just enough for her to pull her foot free.

She took advantage of the situation by kicking the Licker in the head, which bought her just enough time to reach for her gun. Armed once more, she shot the creature twice between the eyes.

As the Licker reeled backwards, screeching and clawing desperately at its tongue as it tried to free itself, Lisa swapped her gun from her right hand to her left. With her right arm, she reached out for the rifle behind her. Every muscle strained as she tried to grab hold of it, but it was still just out of her reach.

Breathing slowly, Lisa let her foot come away from the wall, releasing the Licker's tongue. At the same instant, she shot it once more, using up her last bullet. It screamed again, stumbling backwards -

And she threw herself in the direction of the rifle, grabbed it, and fired it at her tormentor.

When the thunder of gunfire and its echoes had finally died away, Lisa chanced a look at the Licker. It was, very definitely, dead. What remained of its bullet-ridden body was twitching violently, and blood was spilling out onto the floor to form a grisly puddle underneath it.

Lisa cautiously felt her face, not fully believing what had just happened to her. She couldn't really have survived that, could she? But yes, she was alive and well and in one piece, and she laughed out loud with the sheer relief of having survived.

"I don't believe it! I'm still alive…!"

And this time nobody else had saved her. The assault rifle hadn't saved her life, either. She'd saved herself. She felt strangely proud of that.

"Thanks again, God," she said aloud, clasping her hands and raising her eyes to the ceiling. "I owe you another one, even though you still owe me _big_ time for getting me into this mess in the first place. But if you can get us out of here alive and well, I'm more than happy to call it quits, and I'll be a really, really good person for the rest of my life."

She stopped, and shook her head.

"No, no, wait, what am I saying? You don't owe me anything. I don't even go to church. But God, if you can save me and Jack and the others, then I promise I'll start going. It's the least I can do. I'm really sorry for anything I've done to deserve being chased by monsters; I didn't know I'd been that bad. I'm sorry, I really am. Please forgive me, and please, _please_ let me find a way to save Jack…"

There was no answer, of course; she hadn't been expecting one. Nevertheless, she felt a little different inside, and she hoped that this meant that God had heard her prayer. Well, it was more of a petition than a prayer, really, but she hoped God had heard it anyway.

"Thank you," she added hastily. "Amen."

Discovering that you were in a town full of things that wanted to eat you had two effects on the half-heartedly religious. It either made you lose whatever faith you might have had, or it made you realise that you'd never placed enough importance on religion and that now was a good time to start.

In Lisa's case, it had been the latter. Though she'd always believed in God, she hadn't been particularly religious and had only gone to church for christenings, marriages and the occasional funeral. She'd always felt a vague sense of guilt about this, but had never put aside any time to do anything about it. Sometime after seeing her first zombie, though, she'd wondered why she'd ever put homework higher on her list of priorities than fervent religious belief.

But that was going to change, she told herself. She'd never sideline faith again, because if you didn't have faith in something, then what was the point of even being alive?

Wait, wait, wait. What was she _doing_? She didn't have time for philosophy! Jack was dying and he needed her help, and she was standing here trying to find religion? Heaven could wait a little while longer. And if its occupants could help her out until then, she thought, so much the better.

Beyond the Licker's convulsing corpse was one final door, right at the very end of the corridor. Her heart began to beat faster. Could this be it?

Lisa rushed towards it and she silently rejoiced as she read the nameplate by the door:

DR JANICE REDMOND & Dr Adrian Hewlett (Asst.)

As promised, there was a keypad beside the door, just below the nameplate. Lisa raised her hand slowly as she tried to recall the entry code.

"Oh yeah… 68578..."

Her fingers darted across the keypad, punching in the numbers that Dr Harlech had told her. She was rewarded with a click, and the door opened before her to reveal an office shrouded in darkness. But when she stepped inside, the lights turned on automatically and the curtain of blackness was lifted.

"Unnngh…"

She really wished that the curtain of blackness had stayed right where it was. Sitting at the desk was a zombie. In life he had been a very young man, perhaps not much older than her. He'd been gangly and rather awkward-looking, with messy brown hair, spectacles that were now broken, and a face that had been scarred by the ravages of teenage acne. Now, of course, acne was the least of his troubles. He certainly wouldn't be worrying about it any more.

He got up clumsily, knocking over the chair, and started to lurch towards her. Lisa was ready for this, and she aimed the rifle carefully at the zombie's chest.

"Ah," she said, through gritted teeth. "You must be Dr Hewlett…"

She pulled the trigger and held it down until the zombie keeled over with a very final groan and a head and torso full of bullets. When she was satisfied that the zombie really was dead, she lowered the rifle.

"Sorry about that," she said to the late Dr Hewlett. "It's nothing personal. But a fish has to swim, and a girl has to avoid getting eaten by zombies. And when it comes down to it, you _are _already dead."

And that was that. Lisa looked around the room for the first time, wondering where the vaccine research would be kept.

The office was frighteningly tidy. Dr Redmond and her assistant had obviously not been fans of the age-old filing method of "put it somewhere and hope you can still find it in two weeks' time", and had stored their paperwork carefully in the appropriate places.

Damn. It would have been so much easier if they'd left things lying around. She had no idea where they could have filed this stuff; if it even existed at all, that is. It would be so much easier just to give up and -

_And leave Jack to die in a concrete tomb miles underground._

That thought alone spurred Lisa into action once again. She grabbed the handles of a filing cabinet and pulled the drawers open, snatching handfuls of paper from the bottom drawer and sorting through them with ever-increasing haste and desperation.

"Please be here, please be here, please be here," she muttered.

Then she saw that the drawer she was searching was marked as "Bacterial/Viral Replication Studies (1991-1994)". No good searching there. She shoved the mass of papers roughly back into the drawer and pushed it shut, before moving down to the next drawer.

This one was marked "Epidemic Case Studies (1992-1997)". Lisa didn't expect to find anything, but looked anyway, just in case. As she'd anticipated, there was nothing there but reports on past epidemics.

The drawer below it was labelled "Vaccine Development Reports (1996-1997)", which initially looked promising until she discovered that these were concerned with vaccines for ordinary illnesses.

The final drawer was called "Research Archive - Medical Journals (1995-present)". There was nothing inside but stacks of old medical journals and some photocopies from other medical journals.

There was another filing cabinet, but as Lisa wrenched open the drawers in her frantic hunt for answers, she discovered that it was almost entirely empty.

"Damn it!" she yelled, and slammed the drawer shut in frustration. "Where is it?"

She checked the desk drawers as fast as she could, painfully aware of how the seconds were slipping away, aware that every wasted second brought Jack closer to death. She redoubled her efforts - if that was even possible - and burrowed through neat stacks of research papers about viruses and genetic engineering.

Nothing. Now flustered, furious and not a little frightened, Lisa practically threw herself into the chair, pulled it up to the desk and placed her hands on the keyboard of the slightly dusty computer sitting on one side of the desk.

She extended one finger to turn the computer and the monitor on, and fidgeted nervously as the machine whirred into life and went through its start-up procedures. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the Umbrella logo flashing across the screen, but this was soon forgotten when the login screen appeared.

PLEASE ENTER USERNAME AND PASSWORD

Lisa thought for a moment, then began to type.

_**Username:** __RedJanice  
__**Password: **--------_

Renegade. It was an oddly appropriate password for someone who was making a vaccine for the very thing that she'd helped to create. Lisa wondered why she'd done it. Professional curiosity? Compassion? Or because somebody didn't want her to?

The computer desktop appeared, and Lisa was startled to see how empty it looked. There were a few program icons and two folders, one named "Janice's Folder Of Doom" and the other "Adrian's Folder Of No Return".

Had she not been so intent on completing a mercy mission of the utmost urgency, Lisa would probably have smiled at this. She didn't smile. Instead she clicked on "Adrian's Folder Of No Return" and waited for it to open.

There was nothing there; at least, nothing that was of any use to her. Aside from a few minor lab reports, Dr Hewlett apparently hadn't used the computer much, except for downloading pictures of bikini girls and several abortive attempts to write a best-selling novel. Lisa tried "Janice's Folder Of Doom".

There were twenty different text files in this folder. Lisa checked each one, her frown deepening every time she came up with no information on vaccines or cures for the L-Virus. When the twentieth file proved useless, Lisa put her head in her hands. The glare from the computer screen was hurting her eyes, she had a headache, she was exhausted from running, fighting, crying and trying to stay awake long after her usual bedtime - the clock on the computer taskbar was showing 2.11 am - and on top of all that, the friend she hadn't known she loved was dying and there was nothing she could do about it.

The words on the screen were still there when she looked up, burning pathways into her brain. It all related to the L-Project in some way. Amber would have been delighted to find stuff like this, although it was no use to her.

Something beeped on the computer, shaking Lisa out of her torpor.

_**Janice** has **1** new e-mail message!  
Read now? Y/N_

Lisa hastily clicked "Yes", hoping that it might be something useful, and this brought up an e-mail program. It had apparently been made by Umbrella as part of the company's operating system; the colour scheme was grey, black, red and white, and the Umbrella logo was emblazoned on the top left corner of the window.The inbox icon was flashing, indicating that there were unread messages inside. Lisa clicked on it, and saw a vast sea of e-mails; these were obviously from Janice's colleagues, as they all had the suffix attached to their e-mail addresses.

All except the latest one. This was a different address, with a suffix that made Lisa's eyes open wide. It appeared to be from some sort of government agency. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it couldn't stop Lisa from opening the e-mail. 

_Sender: "Ellison K. White" (agentwhite(a)scib. com)  
Recipient: "Dr Janice Redmond" (redjanice(a)umbrellamail. com); "Dr Adrian Hewlett" (adeymoi(a)umbrellamail. com) _

The department is investigating your earlier claims but we need more evidence so that a further investigation can be conducted. It is vital that you contact us as soon as possible. Furthermore, your latest report was due in three days ago but we haven't heard from either of you since the 11th. Please report to us immediately.

_Agent Ellison K. White,  
Special Criminal Investigations Bureau_

"That's odd," said Lisa, frowning again. "Why are Umbrella scientists talking to government agents?"

One of the buttons displayed above the e-mail caught her eye, and Lisa smiled to herself. What a wonderful idea. Amber would probably have a field day over something like this, if only she could examine it at leisure. She didn't know Amber's e-mail address, true, but that wasn't necessarily a problem…

Lisa clicked "Forward" and typed in an e-mail address:

_uptowngirl(a)raccoonmail. com_

However, she hesitated before she could click "Send". Why stop there? Why not forward all of these messages to herself, so she could show them to Amber if they ever got out of here alive?

Lisa closed the e-mail window, went back to the inbox and selected all of the e-mails with one click of the mouse button, then forwarded every single one to her own address. After a few thoughtful seconds, she composed a new e-mail and carefully attached every single one of the text files in Janice's folder, before sending it to herself.

Brilliant. More evidence for the good guys. But she still hadn't found what she was looking for.

Scowling darkly, she logged out of Janice's account and shut down the computer. She was so angry. Why the hell hadn't they been thoughtful enough to put that research somewhere where she could find it? It was no use to her if she couldn't find it. Now Jack was going to die, and all because the key to his salvation had been carefully stashed away by a pair of neat freaks.

With a scream of rage, Lisa hurled herself at the bookcase on the other side of the office and yanked the weighty medical books and scientific manuals off the shelves, hurling them across the room.

"You inconsiderate _bastards_!"

A particularly hefty tome hit one of the filing cabinets, leaving a massive dent in the side.

"You _stupid _obsessive neat freaks!"

Another book, the size of a telephone directory and twice as boring, hit the computer screen and knocked the whole thing off the desk in a shower of sparks.

"I'm going to - "

Lisa's hand closed over a book much, much smaller than any of the others. It was such a surprise to find a tiny book amongst all these huge volumes that she stopped mid-yell, and opened it up. The title page was handwritten very neatly in a pleasant, slightly italicised script:

_Janice Redmond - Diary 1998_

Stunned, Lisa turned the pages. In the back of her mind was the vague hope that perhaps the little leather-bound book might hold some kind of clue as to where the vaccine research was.

_March 6th, 1998  
__We've been working undercover here at Umbrella's Raccoon City branch headquarters for nearly ten years now, and we still don't have any concrete evidence of any wrongdoings, aside from some rumours and a couple of strange coincidences. The Bureau didn't send us here just to come back with unsubstantiated rumours - they need hard evidence. Fortunately for us both, we're being assigned to something called the L-Project. I'm hoping that this time, Adrian and I will finally get to the heart of Umbrella's alleged bioweapons programme…_

Lisa kept turning pages, gripped by what she was reading.

_June 16th, 1998  
__The L-Virus project is being stepped up, and some of my fellow researchers have been discussing the prospect of obtaining live human subjects for their experiments. I can't believe that they see nothing wrong with doing this. Are they insane?_

_June 21st, 1998  
__Adrian just came running in and told me that he overheard Liz Hartley yelling at some of the other researchers. Apparently they've hauled in a whole bunch of unfortunate people who stumbled into another Umbrella facility by accident over the past month, and among them was Liz Hartley's daughter's best friend - and the poor girl's parents too. Liz ordered them to let the family go, but they refused on the grounds that they've already been infected with experimental viruses and can't be released. Now Liz is hopping mad and in an absolutely foul mood. I think I'd better avoid her for a little while, at least until she's stopped throwing things._

_June 27th, 1998  
__The workload on this project is crazy. I'm just really lucky to have Adrian as my assistant. The other researchers have been clamouring for assistants of their own lately, and it looks like Hazlitt and Lampeter are finally giving in. Assistants are being assigned to the project tomorrow. I'm quite relieved; at least I won't stand out so much any more. The others were furious because I had an assistant and they didn't, and things were getting pretty awkward._

_June 28th, 1998  
__The new assistants started today. None of them seem to have any idea what they're really doing. They're very fortunate. I wish I didn't know what I was doing. This project is obscene and if I wasn't doing this for the Bureau's benefit, I would have left long ago. It's quite terrifying to watch all those young men and women becoming part of something evil without even realising it. I feel especially sorry for one of them. I'm not sure of her name, but I think it's Melissa or Clarissa or something like that. She's a sweet girl, a little naïve but very hard-working; Adrian certainly seems rather fond of her. It's such a shame to see a bright young thing like that wasting her talents here, fetching Petri dishes for that ghastly Goddard woman. If only she and the others knew the truth…_

_July 5th, 1998  
__Some real success at last! Liz Hartley confided in me today that she tried to resign from the project, but was threatened with dire consequences if she did. She told me that she's frightened for herself and her family, but she knows she has to carry on working no matter what. I got the whole conversation on tape and I got Adrian to send it to our contact in the Bureau after work today. Nice to finally have some hard evidence to show for all these years working undercover here._

_July 26th, 1998  
__The "mansion incident" has made things a lot harder for us lately - we're really getting badgered by the Bureau for this. We've passed them onto the RPD's STARS unit so they can get evidence straight from the survivors. As far as Adrian and I are concerned, it's their problem now. _

July 30th, 1998  
_God, I hate working here. I hate knowing that I helped to make something vile and evil that could destroy the whole of humanity if it leaked out. I'm just glad they've finished the L-Virus so I don't have to work on it any more. Now I can get on with putting my scientific skills to the benefit of humanity by working on a vaccine for the damn thing. We were ordered at the start of the project to make sure the L-Virus was incurable, but nothing's incurable. There has to be some way of creating a vaccine, or an antidote of some sort._

_August 16th, 1998  
__Oh my God. It's horrible. I can't believe what I've just seen… They've tested the completed virus on some poor soul's body, and it's turned him into something indescribably grotesque. I feel sick just thinking about it. Hazlitt and Lampeter are delighted, naturally, and they're already talking about observing the thing in action, even training it. This has made me even more determined to create a vaccine. This project has to be stopped before it's too late!_

_September 15th, 1998  
__Liz Hartley's husband was one of the L-Virus' creators and I know she's unhappy about working here. I'm trying to persuade her to help me make a vaccine, but she seems reluctant to cooperate with me. Of course, it's all right for me because I don't have a family to worry about. Liz is terrified that something bad will happen to her husband and daughter if she disobeys the company. I tried to call her at home yesterday but I guess I must have dialled a wrong number. Some girl answered the phone and I thought it was Liz, so I tried to warn her about the virus. Naturally this kid didn't know what the hell I was talking about and she said -_

"Oh, not another prank caller. Don't you people have lives?" murmured Lisa, shocked as she recognised her own words on paper.

That had been Dr Redmond on the other end of the phone line that day, trying to warn her about the L-Virus and the impending disaster, and she'd just dismissed her as some crazed nuisance caller with nothing better to do than annoy people. If only she'd listened to her…

_September 16th, 1998  
__At last, we've completed the vaccine! We'll have to hide it in case somebody else stumbles across it, but at least it's here if we need it. It's reassuring to know that at least this virus can be stopped if it gets out. I've tested it on a pair of infected experimental hamsters that I rescued from Research Lab #2 and incredibly, they returned to full health within minutes of having administered the vaccine. I personally hate animal testing, but unfortunately there was no other alternative, especially after Adrian said no. The vaccine does appear to be slightly painful when first administered, but this soon passes. The hamsters are not suffering from any side-effects, although their brainpower and physical activity do seem to have improved as a result of the initial L-Virus infection. They are now in perfect health and eating well, bless them. In fact, they seem even healthier than they were before. I've kept some vaccine samples hidden in a safe place in my lab, and I keep a dose on my person at all times._

"But where is it?" cried Lisa, shaking the book. "Where did you put it, Janice? Where the hell did you put it?"

_September 22nd, 1998  
Oh no. I think they're onto us. I don't know how they found out about our subterfuge, because we've been so careful, but I know that we can't stay here much longer. When I get home tomorrow I'm e-mailing HQ and telling them that we have to abort our mission immediately_…

After that entry, the style of handwriting changed completely, becoming a spidery, almost illegible scrawl. Someone else had obviously continued the diary.

_September 24th  
Janice is dead. I found her dead in the lab last night and I know they killed her. She was slumped over a table with her head in a big glass tub full of toxic chemicals. I tried to revive her but she was already long gone. When I went to fetch help they said that the ventilation system had malfunctioned and she must have been overcome by the fumes, but I know that can't be true - I checked the ventilation system myself that morning after Janice complained of an odd smell in the air ducts and there was nothing wrong with it. They murdered her. I know they did. If only I could prove it… but that's the least of our problems right now._

_The T-Virus is spreading through the city and they've declared martial law. Nobody can get out. The company told us to stay here and await rescue from the UBCS, whatever that is. They're shipping out the executives by helicopter even as I write this. The others are still living in hope of rescue, but I know that we've been left for dead. There won't be a rescue. We're all going to die. I've told my superiors that the mission is pretty useless now - the T-Virus outbreak is living proof of what Umbrella's been up to._

_On the plus side, they said that Janice's office and lab are now for my own personal use. Well, they were anyway because I worked with her, but now it's all mine. I've told Clarissa she can come here and write reports if she needs somewhere quiet to work while she waits to be rescued. She still believes that she can get out alive, and who am I to tell her no? Besides, at least she'll have somewhere safe to stay. She's my friend and I don't want her to get hurt or turn into a zombie._

_I may as well end this diary here. It was Janice's, so I probably shouldn't be writing in it anyway._

And true to his word, Adrian had ended the diary there.

So, he and Dr Redmond had been spying on Umbrella for a government agency, trying to dig up dirt on the company and prove that they'd been committing criminal acts. They obviously hadn't been the only ones. Still, their work was being completed by people like Amber and the surviving STARS members. At least their deaths hadn't been in vain. And the vaccine did exist - but where was it?

The lab, presumably. Or possibly on Janice's body, but that would probably be a lot harder to find. Did this lab complex have a morgue? If not, then she had probably been taken away already; in that case, she could be anywhere. Easier to start searching in the laboratory.

Lisa looked up and for the first time she noticed the _other_ door, with a little keypad beside it like the one at the front door of the office. She mentally kicked herself. Of _course_ vaccine research would be kept in the laboratory. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier?

She tapped the door code into the keypad, and stepped back as the door swung aside. Her nostrils twitched at the smell that wafted out of the doorway.

"Yuck!" she cried, coughing.

The dark room on the other side of the door smelled strongly of chemicals and cleaning products, but there was an odd smell in the room that even disinfectant couldn't seem to cover up. She didn't want to go in, but she knew she had to. Steeling herself, she closed her eyes and walked in.

Lisa blinked as the lights came on, illuminating a laboratory with the most advanced technology that she'd ever seen. She hadn't seen much in the way of laboratory equipment except in science class, admittedly, but it certainly looked futuristic - years ahead of its time.

This room, unlike the office, was not neat at all. Machines and flat-screen computers jostled for space with glassware, standard lab equipment and stacks of computer printouts. There were bookshelves and sinks, both crammed full, and several workbenches. On one workbench were some jars of chemicals, and a big glass container full of something bile-coloured and acrid-smelling.

In the exact centre of the room was a table. Resting on top of it was something long and distressingly human-shaped, covered in a clean white sheet. Lisa kept well away from the table, edging around the side of the room and watching the body warily for any sign of movement.

It was probably Dr Redmond's body, if she'd died in this room. She didn't really want to check, though, in case she suddenly saw the sheet rising up towards her as the body beneath sat up with a snarl.

Lisa flinched at the mere thought of it. No, she wouldn't be touching that sheet. No way. Absolutely no way. Definitely not.

Nevertheless, her curiosity got the better of her, and despite her brain screaming at the rest of her to stop, she found herself stepping forward, lifting the sheet and drawing it back over the body to reveal -

Lisa sucked in her breath sharply as she saw what was underneath the makeshift shroud.

"Oh my God…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Renée and Dr Harlech sat and stared at the wall.

"I'm a bit worried about Lisa," said Dr Harlech after several long and completely silent minutes had passed. "She's been gone for quite a while. It must be at least half an hour since she left. Surely she ought to be back by now? It's not that far to walk to Janice's office."

Renée said absolutely nothing.

"And then there was all that gunfire, and that scream - I hope she's all right," said Dr Harlech.

Renée's fixed expression didn't change.

"Maybe we should go and look for her," said Dr Harlech. "She might be in trouble, and if Amber comes back and she finds Lisa gone, I really don't want to have to be the one to explain that we let Lisa go upstairs alone. If she finds out that we didn't even bother to go after Lisa when we heard her screaming, she's going to get prehistoric on our asses. That's kind of like getting medieval on our asses, only with less subtlety and more primitive, mindless violence."

Renée slowly doubled up, clutching her stomach. Her face was contorting with pain as she let out a long groan of agony.

"Renée? Are you all right?" said Dr Harlech.

"My stomach hurts…"

"That's odd; the morphine shouldn't be wearing off already," said Dr Harlech, frowning. "Perhaps I'd better take a look at you."

She shuffled along the floor on her knees and stopped directly in front of Renée. But before she could even lay hands on the mercenary, there was a blur of sudden movement.

Dr Harlech blinked. Something cold and hard was being pressed against her forehead. She had a nasty feeling that she knew what it was.

"Don't move," said Renée coldly.

"Renée?" said Dr Harlech, with a nervous laugh. "What's going on?"

"You know perfectly well what's going on," said Renée, with the same chilly voice and expression that Christina was so fond of using.

Dr Harlech was too shocked to speak. Moments ago she had been playing guessing games with a good-natured, happy-go-lucky young woman who cracked jokes and was curious about everything, but suddenly there was no longer any trace of the warm and friendly person that had been Renée. Now there was just Private Lavelle, a cold-hearted and pitiless mercenary, holding a gun to her head.

Perhaps Renée Lavelle had never been that warm, friendly person - and it had all been an elaborate act. Perhaps this was the real person inside, this cold, cruel young woman with less human kindness than even her colleague.

Icy knowledge seeped into her brain. She knew what this was all about now. Oh, yes. There was no question of it being about anything else.

"But I - I don't understand," she blurted out, a slight whimper creeping into her voice involuntarily. "W-why are you doing this? I thought you were my friend - I thought you didn't want to be part of Umbrella any more!"

Renée's mouth formed into a slight smile that had nothing to do with real amusement.

"I lied. I don't care about money, or promotion. Those things don't matter to me."

"You weren't sent here to find survivors, were you?" said Dr Harlech quietly.

Renée shook her head, still smiling.

"Then why were you sent here?" said Dr Harlech, as loud as she dared. "To steal our research? To capture live specimens for another sick experiment?"

Once again, Renée shook her head.

"No, Dr Harlech. I was sent here to kill you."


	38. Ruled By Secrecy

**38: Ruled By Secrecy**

It wasn't what had been under the sheet that had surprised her, but the state it was in. She'd expected a dead woman, pale and still, with some scarring on her face from the chemicals that killed her.

Not _this._

The body under the sheet was Dr Redmond's. It had the distinctive flame-red hair that she remembered from the photograph of the L-Project researchers. Were it not for this distinguishing feature, however, it would have been very difficult to identify the body by sight. Her face had been burned so badly that she was virtually unrecognisable as the attractive woman from the photograph. Much of the skin had simply been eaten away by the corrosive chemicals, revealing raw flesh and the dull white gleam of the skull beneath. The rest was covered in purplish-red burns that contrasted sharply with the paleness of the rest of her body.

And that wasn't the worst of it.

As if being horribly mutilated wasn't bad enough, the woman's face was set in an expression of agony and suffering that would last for all eternity. Her mouth was half-open in a silent cry of pain, and her wide eyes were staring up at the ceiling in an almost accusatory fashion, as if she was saying "Why me?" There were some marks on her neck that could have been bruises, and as she had already been dead for five days, her body was beginning to show signs of decomposition. On the whole, it made for a pretty gruesome spectacle.

Lisa's stomach heaved. She rushed over to one of the emptier sinks and made it there just in time to be violently sick.

Shaking all over, she put the diary to one side for a moment and ran the faucets in the sink until it was clean again. She turned the faucets off, and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

Adrian had been right; this was no accident. Dr Redmond had been murdered. She'd been grabbed by the neck by person or persons unknown, and she'd been forced face-down into toxic chemicals until she'd stopped struggling. And then - what? Surely Adrian would have heard the commotion? Surely he would have noticed her killers enter and leave the room?

Maybe not. All they would have had to do was wait until Adrian went to the bathroom or something, and then kill her. She would have died within seconds, or a minute or two at the very most.

But how to leave the scene without being noticed? It couldn't be possible that nobody in the entire complex had heard Janice Redmond scream, and that nobody would have noticed the murderers entering or leaving the room beforehand.

Then again, screams probably weren't uncommon in this underground hell. There had been live human experiments, and there would almost certainly have been screams issuing from those rooms too. Nobody would have noticed - or would have admitted to noticing, anyway. But that was it, wasn't it? Even if someone had known what had happened, they wouldn't dare to talk about it for fear of what might happen if they did. Talking about "accidents" meant that you would probably end up having an "accident" yourself, especially if you'd implied that the "accident" was no accident at all.

Lisa gripped Dr Redmond's diary so tightly that her fingernails left marks in the leather binding.

_Damn you, Umbrella. You__'__ve ruined so many lives, and you__'__ve ended so many more. Even the people you spare live in constant fear. But I__'__m not afraid of you. And I__'__m not going to let you take Jack away from me._

With another glance at the body lying on the table, Lisa opened the book again and searched the pages a second time, just to make sure that she hadn't missed some sort of secret code, or a clue as to where the late Dr Redmond could have concealed the vaccines.

When she reached Dr Redmond's penultimate entry, she sighed.

_I've kept some vaccine samples hidden in a safe place in my lab, and I keep a dose on my person at all times._

At all times? Even when she was dead?

Lisa slammed the book shut, balanced it on the edge of the table, and proceeded to search the dead scientist's pockets. She felt slightly uncomfortable about doing so at first, but then brushed her concerns aside. Dr Redmond probably wouldn't have minded anyway, she decided. Even if she had, she was well past caring, and was certainly in no position to complain. Jack had been quite correct on that account.

The clean white pockets of Dr Redmond's lab coat yielded nothing but a pair of rubber gloves, a spare handkerchief and a fountain pen. Lisa discarded the first two, but placed the pen on top of the diary. It looked quite expensive, and a spare pen always came in handy.

There were no pockets in Dr Redmond's sensible grey skirt. Lisa checked inside the scientist's plain black shoes, just in case, but found nothing. There were no pockets in the white blouse she was wearing, either.

_So much for that,_ she thought bitterly.

But as her hand brushed against Dr Redmond's collar, she felt something cold and hard beneath it.

"What…?"

She twitched the collar aside and saw Amber's necklace, fastened loosely around the dead woman's throat. Except that it wasn't Amber's necklace. It was identical to the one Amber had found in every respect, except for the colour; Amber's had been a dark, smoky colour, but this heart pendant was utterly colourless.

Once again she had the strange, unshakable feeling that this necklace was important too. Naturally, they were important because the two pendants were the keys to the laboratory, but there was something else about them, something that she couldn't quite fathom…

Not really knowing why, Lisa picked the silver chain up off Dr Redmond's skin. She found the clasp, undid it, and picked it up carefully, placing it around her own neck and fastening it again.

Feeling a tiny bit guilty, Lisa decided to pay her respects to the dead. She reached over and, very gingerly, closed the dead woman's eyes and mouth. Dr Redmond's life may not have ended peacefully, she said to herself, but at least this way she could look more at peace now that she had gone to her eternal rest. She pulled the sheet back over Dr Redmond's body.

"Right," she said to herself. "Now for the vaccines…"

Lisa looked around. There were some cupboards set in the workbench; she checked these quickly, but found nothing except equipment. It wasn't terribly surprising, because anyone could have easily found the vaccine samples. It was hardly a "safe" place to keep them.

"Where would a safe place be?" she wondered aloud.

She'd once seen a film in which something important had been hidden inside a hollowed-out book, but she ignored the bookcase. Again, it would be a stupid place to hide something. All someone would have to do would be to knock a book off the shelf by mistake, and they'd find what was hidden inside as it fell open on the floor. No use looking there.

There didn't seem to be any safe places to hide something here, or at least none that could be easily accessed in case of an emergency.

_An emergency!_

There was a fire blanket in a glass-fronted box near the door, and a First Aid kit in a slightly smaller box right above it. Both of those things were for use in emergencies, so perhaps what she was looking for would be hidden amongst them.

Lisa grabbed the nearest heavy-looking small object - a paperweight pinning down a stack of papers, adorned with the legend "Greetings From Minnesota" - and walked quickly over to the two boxes.

She brought the paperweight sharply against each one, smashing the glass. Discarding the paperweight, she pulled the fire blanket roughly out of the box and shook it vigorously. Life-saving vaccines inexplicably failed to fall from the folds of the blanket and land on the floor. There was nothing in the case where the blanket had been, either.

Lisa threw down the blanket and pulled out the First Aid kit, deciding that this would be a better place to look for the vaccines, as they probably counted as "emergency medical supplies" too. She rifled through the objects inside the dark green box, but found only what one would expect to find in a First Aid kit. There was nothing unusual inside it at all.

Damn! She'd been so _sure_ the vaccines would be in there. Where else could they be that counted as a safe place?

Something squeaked. Lisa jumped, turning her head quickly in the direction of the noise, but breathed out with relief when she saw what the noise was. In the corner of the lab, half-hidden behind drifts of papers, was a wire cage. Inside it were two hamsters, one black-and-white and the other a sandy colour. These were probably the infected experimental hamsters that Dr Redmond had rescued and cured with her vaccine.

Lisa smiled. She never could resist anything cute and fluffy. She went over to the cage and peered in through the bars at the hamsters living inside it. They peered back out at her with beady little oil-drop eyes.

"Aww…" cooed Lisa. "Hey, little guys. I guess you must have been part of the resistance too, huh? Never thought I'd meet a pair of revolutionary hamsters. Looks like Dr Redmond took real good care of you both, too. You're not even sick. Well, at least you're both safe in here - "

The sentence ended in a shocked gasp. There was something hidden beneath the rather dirty shredded newspapers at the bottom of the hamster cage.

_In a safe place… of course!_

Lisa opened the cage door, and the hamsters went wild, scurrying madly around the cage as she reached inside. They had obviously been startled by the sudden appearance of the first live human being that they'd seen in days.

"Sorry, guys," she said apologetically, brushing aside the old bits of newspaper and picking up the small black box that had been carefully concealed beneath it. She withdrew her hand quickly and closed the cage door, and instantly the hamsters settled down again.

Eagerly, Lisa opened the black box and found exactly what she was looking for - five little phials of clear liquid, covered by a piece of paper. On the paper was more of Janice's neat handwriting.

_These L-Virus vaccines are to be used only in case of accidental infection. Each phial contains one dose of L-Virus vaccine and can either be taken orally or injected directly into the bloodstream. The vaccine will counteract the virus and is effective even during the final stages of initial infection, as the mutations caused by the L-Virus only begin after the death of the victim. The vaccine takes effect almost immediately and the patient will return to full health within minutes. The vaccine can still counteract the virus posthumously, but this will not revive the patient and will only prevent them from turning into a monster after their death._

Lisa grinned with relief. Here in her hand was the power to make Jack well again. She tucked the paper back inside the box and closed it gently. She took off her backpack and opened it up.

There wasn't much inside it; just the few clothes and the bracelet that she'd taken from her room before she left home. She picked up one of the t-shirts that she'd taken with her and wrapped it carefully around the box before putting it in. She also took the lighter that she'd found earlier and put it in the backpack.

Oh yes, her gun was empty too. She reloaded her handgun, put the safety catch back on, and tucked it into her pocket with the rest of the bullets and her spare AK clip.

Time to go.

Lisa scooped up Dr Redmond's diary and the fountain pen, and put them in her backpack. Swinging the backpack onto her shoulder again, she was about to leave the laboratory when she heard a plaintive squeak behind her.

She glanced back at the hamsters, and her heart melted. Those two little hamsters were all alone in a scary lab complex full of monsters, and there was nobody left alive to look after them. She couldn't just leave the poor little creatures here to die.

"All right, little friends, you're coming with me," she told them. "I'm going to get you out of here."

Lisa grasped the handle on top of the hamster cage, and picked it up slowly, trying not to scare the hamsters again.

She'd once stayed up late to watch _Alien_, and the main character had earned herself a great deal of kudos in Lisa's eyes by rescuing the ship's cat on her way out. Lisa felt a bit like that now, saving the hamsters from an uncertain fate in a zombie-infested laboratory complex.

_Lisa Hartley, the Hamsters__'__ Friend, saviour of small and fluffy creatures everywhere. Especially the ones in creepy Umbrella labs. Go me!_

She smiled to herself as she headed for the laboratory door. Now her quest was at an end, and she could finally hurry back to the underground shelter and save the boy she loved. The question was, was she too late to save him?

xxxxxxxxxx

Dr Harlech already knew the answer, but at times like these, some questions just had to be asked.

"Why?" she said, trying to sound suitably bewildered. "Why kill me?"

"Because you're a security risk, Dr Harlech," said Renée. "You discovered the truth about the L-Project. You can't be allowed to wander around loose, knowing what you know. The company wanted you silenced, so they sent me here to take you out."

"I know too much," murmured Dr Harlech. "Just like Janice. That was why she had to die. That's what happens when you defy the company, isn't it?"

"Nobody defies Umbrella," said Renée in a monotone, as if reading from some sort of internal script.

_Wait a minute_. _Something__'__s not right here,_ thought Dr Harlech. _Well, obviously something__'__s not right, _she added mentally, _I__'__ve got a _gun _pointed at my head, for crying out loud, but there__'__s something else here that isn__'__t right. If only I knew what it was__…_

"If you were sent to kill me, then why didn't you do it earlier?" said Dr Harlech slowly, stalling for time so she could try and figure out the small nagging feeling in the back of her mind. "You had plenty of opportunities to shoot me dead."

"Don't be absurd," said Renée curtly. "I would never have shot you dead in front of two children and a police officer."

And then it hit Dr Harlech. She still wasn't entirely sure whether the "nice" Renée had been real or not, but she knew for a fact that this new persona of Renée's was lying through its teeth.

"Don't be absurd"? That certainly wasn't one of Renée's pet phrases. If anything, that dismissive phrase sounded like a Christina original. And that cold, aloof manner was Christina all over. It was obvious now; Renée was trying to act just like Christina, and failing miserably. Unlike her superior officer, Renée didn't have the icy edge of contempt in her voice that told you she really _didn__'__t _care if you lived or died.

Furthermore, Christina would have had no qualms about shooting someone dead in front of two kids and a cop. She was the kind of person who would quite calmly blow someone's head off with a .44 Magnum in front of the Pope, the Dalai Lama, the Queen of England and the President of the United States, and not even think twice about how it might have looked.

But Renée - the Renée that she'd been talking to for the past half hour - wasn't like that. Renée _cared_. She was pretending not to, but she couldn't hide her true nature, any more than Christina could pretend to be a "people" person. If she was going to walk out of this place alive, then she'd have to appeal to Renée's true and, presumably, better nature.

"Renee, you don't have to do this," she told the mercenary. "You may be a mercenary, but that doesn't mean you can't be a good person too. You know in your heart that this isn't right."

"Shut up or I'll shoot," snapped Renée.

"If you were really going to do it, you would have done it by now," Dr Harlech pointed out. "Come on, Renée, you and I both know perfectly well that you aren't going to pull that trigger. Now put the gun down."

"No."

"Renée, I know you've been ordered to shoot me, but why are you _really _doing this?" said Dr Harlech, changing tack. "You're not interested in money, or promotion - so what are you interested in?"

"Carrying out my orders," Renée replied automatically.

"Why?" said Dr Harlech.

For the first time since raising the gun, Renée faltered.

"Because - because I _have _to, dammit, that's why!" she retorted.

"No, you _don__'__t _have to," said Dr Harlech. "You don't have to do what they tell you to, just because they told you to do it."

"Yes, I do!" Renée burst out.

"If you were a real mercenary, you would either be in it for the money or the pride and satisfaction of a job well done," the scientist pointed out. "You're not interested in either. So why do you _really _care about this job?"

Renée hesitated again; Dr Harlech could tell that the cold-blooded professional façade was definitely starting to weaken.

"I - "

"You don't care about this job at all, do you?" said Dr Harlech simply. "You _pretend _to, sure, but I can tell that you'd be a lot happier helping people than butchering them."

"I - I - "

"What do you _really_ care about, Renée?"

It had been a brave effort, but Renée finally cracked.

"_My sister_!" she shrieked. "That's what!"

"Your sister?" said Dr Harlech, startled. She hadn't been expecting that answer.

"Yes," said Renée, in a quieter voice. "My sister."

_Underlying family problems, hmm? Well, I__'__m no psychiatrist, but you don__'__t become a doctor without some understanding of human nature,_ Dr Harlech thought. _This is something I can work with._

Aloud she said:

"Tell me about your sister…"

xxxxxxxxxx

In higher spirits, but with the same sense of urgency keeping her going, Lisa stepped back out into the corridor. She began to hurry along again, gripping the hamster cage in one hand and toting the assault rifle with the other.

"Oh no, not I, I will survive…" she sang.

It would all be uphill from here, she knew it. She'd already killed the monsters in this stretch of the corridor, so all she had to do was get back to Jack and cure him. After that, they'd wait for Amber to come back and then they would finally be able to leave this terrible place.

And then she could go to sleep. She couldn't wait.

Lisa's pace slowed as she let her thoughts slide into the subject of sleep. She'd always taken it for granted before now, even complained about having to go to sleep, but oh, what she'd give now to be able to rest her heavy head on a soft pillow and let her aching eyes close. To fall into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep, undisturbed by danger…

Her eyes snapped open again. She couldn't fall asleep yet! Falling asleep would be just about the worst thing she could do right now, especially when she was this close to accomplishing her mission. She _had _to stay awake.

She had to focus on something. Anything would do. It could be a fire extinguisher on the wall, or the sound of the hamster cage banging against her legs as she walked, or even one of the doors that she was about to walk past. Anything to help her to concentrate and to stay awake.

She stopped in front of the door and stared at it, trying to take in every detail of it. The dull grey colour. The slight scratch two-thirds of the way down. The control panel on the wall, with a little flashing red light that was making the keypad buttons glow bright pink. The nameplate, which bore a pair of familiar names. The -

Lisa shook herself. Had she just been imagining that, or had she really seen her parents' names next to the door? She blinked a couple of times, rubbed her face, and looked again.

DR J. R. HARTLEY & DR E. D. HARTLEY

Seeing the names was like having a jolt of electricity sent through every nerve in her body. Suddenly Lisa was wide awake again. She looked at the door control panel, hoping that the door wasn't locked.

_ERROR - DOOR LOCKING MECHANISM FAILED_

It was just the kind of response she'd been hoping for. Lisa suppressed the urge to shriek with joy and rush in, and tried to think logically about the situation. Her parents could very well be in there, alive and well and delighted to see their little girl. On the other hand, there was a strong possibility that they might be dead. She didn't know which it was going to be, but she decided that it was better for her to assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised, than to get her hopes up too high and be devastated to find her mother and father gnawing on the bones of a former colleague.

So it came as quite a surprise to Lisa's rational brain to find her irrational body slamming its free hand down on the control panel, squeezing in through the half-open door and stumbling into the room.

"Mom? Dad?" she found herself calling out. "Mom, Dad - it's me, Lisa. I - "

Lisa saw the room for the first time, and cursed. It was utterly devoid of life or even of human presence. It was just an ordinary-looking office with a bookcase, a pot-plant and two desks that were entirely free of work, but only because it was stacked in piles around the desks instead. As in Janice and Adrian's office, there was a door leading to a laboratory, which was hanging open at a funny angle. It looked broken, and probably was.

Stepping cautiously forward into the weak blue-white light of the laboratory, Lisa heard a squeaky sound that scraped invisible fingernails right down her soul. Wincing, she looked down and saw water and broken glass squeaking beneath her sneakers.

"Could have been worse, I guess," she said to herself.

The glass had come from the ruins of an enormous tank in the middle of the far wall. It had been at least ten feet high, if not eleven or twelve, and when intact it would have been far too wide to put her arms around. Now just the base remained, along with some loose wires trailing in the water. Broken glass had flown all over the room, but curiously, there were no shards inside the tank. This meant that the tank had been broken from the inside. The question was… by what?

Lisa decided not to go there. If she speculated too long about that, then she might find her question answered in the most undesirable way. She didn't want to have to fight off yet another of Umbrella's creations if she could possibly help it.

One more look around the room confirmed that her parents definitely weren't in here either. Still, it couldn't hurt to give the place a quick once-over and look for clues that might lead her to them later.

She carefully ignored the tank and headed instead for the battered dark green locker sitting next to it. Her parents had probably kept their spare lab coats and things in here, shunning the upstairs locker room in favour of a more convenient place to store their work clothes. But when she opened the door, she was astonished to find things that her parents couldn't possibly have owned.

At the bottom of the locker was some black body armour and a pair of army boots. Hanging up on a plain wire coathanger was a pair of dark blue combat pants, accompanied by a pale blue short-sleeved shirt with the RPD's STARS emblem sewn onto one sleeve. The shirt was torn and bloodstained. On a shelf at the top of the locker was a red bandanna, and a handgun which turned out to be empty.

"Now I _know_ my parents weren't in the STARS unit," she said aloud. "So what are these doing here?"

There was something sticking out of the shirt's breast pocket. Lisa pulled it out, and a piece of slightly yellowing paper unfolded in her hands.

_Jonathan,_

_I'm sure you're familiar with what happened in the Arklay mountains recently. Either way, I'm not going to waste paper by explaining it to you in detail. However, following the clean-up operation which took place immediately after the Spencer mansion's destruction, our team came across the body of a STARS member in the woods, just on the edge of the mansion grounds._

_His name is - or rather, was - Joseph Frost. He was fatally wounded some way outside the mansion by one or more "Cerberus" type bioweapons, and as his body was untouched by the explosion, we can only conclude that he was just outside the blast radius when the mansion self-destructed._

_If the surviving STARS members had recovered Frost's body, it could have meant awkward questions and a lot of inconvenience for the company. Therefore, we have brought him here to ensure that his body will never be found - and this is where you and your charming wife come in._

_Dr Lampeter and I have decided that Frost's body is a prime candidate for the final testing of the completed L-Virus. We want you to test the virus on Frost and monitor his progress as the infection takes hold, then deliver the results to us. If the virus is successful, you will both be handsomely rewarded. If not, well, if at first you don't succeed, yes? And there is a certain delightful irony in turning one of the oh-so-virtuous STARS members into Umbrella's most deadly bioweapon, don't you think?_

_I am greatly looking forward to hearing the results of the test. Keep me informed._

_Wilfred Hazlitt._

Lisa bit down on a squeal of horror. Her parents had been ordered to experiment on Amber's _boyfriend_? Bad enough that Umbrella had killed Joseph Frost, but to have experimented on him even after his horrible death was far worse, adding unforgivable insult to mortal injury. If Amber ever found out -

If Amber ever found out, then Lisa knew that she'd refuse to rescue her parents. She'd kill them for sure, unless they were already dead - in which case, the Hartleys' daughter would probably be an acceptable substitute. No, better that Amber didn't know, at least not until after they'd left the city. Her thirst for vengeance was strong enough as it was, and this would only make things worse.

Lisa folded the paper and put it in the back pocket of her jeans, then snatched the red bandanna from the locker as an afterthought and tied it around the handle of the hamster cage. The metal was beginning to dig into her hand quite unpleasantly; at least having some fabric wrapped around it would make it more comfortable to hold.

"Okay… any more dark secrets being hidden around here?"

A quick search of the rest of the room revealed nothing untoward, so Lisa went back out into the office. On her way out, she noticed a photograph propped up on one of the desks. She knew who would be in it, of course, but all the same she couldn't help stopping to look.

It had been taken some years ago in the back yard of her house, on a day bright with sunshine and blooming flowers. There was a dark-haired man in jeans and an open-necked shirt sitting on the grass, grinning at the camera. A pair of glasses was perched at a rakish angle on the end of his nose, and his dark eyes were bright and sparkling in the sunlight.

Sitting next to him was a smiling woman with dark hair, and blue-grey eyes that shone with warmth and love. She was wearing a pretty floral skirt and a cardigan, and in her arms was a little girl wearing a yellow dress. The girl was a pretty little thing, about seven or eight years old, with a rounded face, bright brown eyes, a beaming smile and dark hair in two neat plaits tied with ribbons. She had her arms thrown round her mother's neck and her head resting on her shoulder, and her embrace had apparently knocked her mother's spectacles askew.

Lisa stared.

Those had been happy times. Her mother and father had always been busy, but in those days they'd still found enough time to be a family. They'd loved her, and she'd loved them, and they'd been perfectly content with their lives. Even jobs at Umbrella, years later, hadn't changed that.

At least, not at first. But it had crept deeper and deeper into her parents' lives, constantly dragging them away from her and off to work until the small hours of the morning, and turning them into solemn, unsmiling creatures who constantly resided in a place called "work" and had no time for their daughter any more. They'd drifted away from her, and she from them. The family home had become a lonely place, empty and sad, echoing with arguments and tears and resentful silences.

Umbrella had poisoned her family. It had taken her parents away and turned a happy home into a place of misery, pain and loneliness. It was because of this company that her life had changed forever. She now understood why Amber hated Umbrella so much. Umbrella had taken away Amber's loved ones too.

"Mommy, Daddy, where are you?" said Lisa, gazing at the photograph and the smiling, happy family. "Where did you go?"

Clues - she was meant to be looking for clues. She'd probably need them to find her parents now. This was the last room in the complex, and they weren't here either. Either they were elsewhere in the Umbrella building, or they'd escaped into the city. She had to find clues if there was going to be any chance of finding them again.

She put down the photograph with great care, and opened up the desk drawers. Her searching uncovered masses of crumpled paperwork, a forgotten candy bar wrapper, and a diary. It seemed as though all Umbrella employees kept their own diaries. Maybe Dr Harlech had one too, somewhere.

Lisa opened it at random and read an entry. She recognised her father's handwriting, which was illegible to almost everyone who wasn't immediate family and didn't have to interpret birthday cards and Christmas present labels on a regular basis.

_July 12th, 1997_

_Today Liz and I were transferred to the Viral Research Department. I was quite pleased about this until I found out that we were being sent to work on the T-Virus. Apparently the company wants us to improve and refine it. I didn't tell Liz because I know how she felt about Dr Marcus' research; instead I told her that it was a new treatment to arrest the growth of cancerous cells. Fortunately she knew very little about the actual research, so she won't suspect anything. I feel terrible about lying to my own wife, but she would never understand the importance of this research. Dr Marcus was clearly a fool and a madman with an odd leech fixation, but nevertheless I think he was onto something. Umbrella think it's just another disease, but I believe that the T-Virus could one day be the key to human immortality. It just needs more work…_

_February 21st, 1998_

_Liz and I have been collaborating with Alistair Morton for some time now, and together we've made significant breakthroughs. By removing the unwanted aspects of the T-Virus, we've greatly enhanced it, so much so that it's completely unrecognisable. In fact, it isn't even the T-Virus any more - it's something else, something completely different. I've named it the L-Virus after my daughter Lisa, because just like my only child, this is something truly special. I have no doubts that it will change human civilisation forever._

_February 22nd, 1998_

_The fools! They're corrupting our creation and destroying everything that it stands for! They want to use the new virus as part of their accursed bioweapons programme! Despite our objections, they wouldn't listen to me, or Liz, or even Alistair. They're going ahead with this new project of theirs anyway, and they want the three of us to be at the head of the project. Liz doesn't want to do it, and neither does Alistair, but I know that we can't refuse to do the company's bidding. Dr Marcus defied Umbrella too, and much good did it do him… _

_March 5th, 1998_

_They've completed the new underground laboratory complex now. They designed it specifically for the "L-Project", which they have insisted must be kept top secret. They've also put together a team of researchers, most of whom Liz and I are unfamiliar with. Work on the L-Project starts tomorrow morning._

_July 4th, 1998_

_Liz has been begging me to stop the project, but I told her no. We have to do as the company tells us. Our only choice is to continue with the L-Project and hope that everything turns out all right._

_July 27th, 1998_

_The mansion incident has been weighing heavily on my mind. The T-Virus was even more dangerous than anyone suspected, and now the STARS members know about it. But now this means the virus must have leaked out into the forest and the surrounding area. God only knows what will happen next. I don't even know if there is a vaccine for the T-Virus._

_August 16th, 1998_

_Final testing began today, using a subject brought into us by the higher-ups themselves. They picked up a dead STARS member from the forest near the Spencer mansion after the incident and brought him in to us, saying that he was perfect for the testing. It seems to have worked, and Dr Hazlitt is more than pleased with the results. He wants to start training the creature immediately._

September 13th, 1998

_There are cases of the T-Virus in the city now, and nobody knows what to do. Beatrice Wrigley is dead. Liz wants us to get out of town before it's too late, but she knows just as well as I do that we can't leave. Not until this project is finally over._

_September 24th, 1998_

_All hell's breaking loose. My former colleague, Will Birkin, was assassinated by the company for his G-Virus samples, and in doing so, those fools accidentally spread the T-Virus into the sewers. People all through the city are dropping like flies now. We tried to get out of the city this morning, but it's no use - they've declared martial law and nobody can leave town. Liz was right, we should have left when we had the chance. Now it's too late. We're stuck here in the laboratory, waiting for a rescue which will probably never come. All we can do now is wait and hope for survival._

That was it. Lisa felt numb as she closed her father's diary. Her mother and father had made the virus that had spawned that terrible monster. The same virus that was killing Jack. And they'd _named_ it after her…

She couldn't believe that her parents had been involved in something so evil. Her own mother and father, the people who had brought her into the world, the people who had fed her and clothed her and taken care of her, had gone off to work every day and created these instruments of death.

_I must be crazy, wanting to find them, after what they__'__ve done! They__'__ve always hated Jack, ever since I first brought him back home, and now they__'__re killing him with their virus and their monster__…__ I should leave them here to rot!_

Simmering with fury, Lisa stormed over to the other desk, which she assumed was her mother's. There was a hamster cage on this desk, and the sight of six fluffy little hamsters sitting inside was enough to make her anger and disgust subside.

"Aww…" she said, leaning forward and extending a finger to pet one through the bars of the cage.

_Spang!_

The hamsters started hurling themselves at the metal bars of the cage with bared teeth and odd little cries that could have been snarls. Lisa yelped and withdrew her hand sharply. Only now did she notice that the hamsters' eyes were mutant-white and bloodshot around the edges. Her jaw dropped.

"Uh, okay, never mind," she said hastily, backing away from the cage. "I think you guys can stay right where you are."

Zombie hamsters? Now she'd seen everything - or, if she hadn't, then she really didn't want to see anything else. Zombie hamsters and giant monsters were quite enough for her.

Blood-red wrath returned with a vengeance. Who could be heartless enough to infect these sweet little hamsters with the T-Virus? Surely it couldn't have been the people whose office she was standing in now? She had never believed that her parents could have been capable of such cruelty and barbarism. Obviously she had been wrong.

"Well, let's see what darling Mommy has to say about this, shall we?" growled Lisa, storming over to the desk again and ripping open drawers until she pulled out an identical-looking diary, filled with her mother's tiny handwriting. "You _monsters_! I can't believe you did this!"

However, her anger dissolved into shock when she started to read her mother's diary entries.

_July 12th, 1997_

_We've been transferred to the Viral Research Department. I'm not thrilled about it, not having much of an interest in virology, but Jon seems quite interested in the new assignment we've been given - we're working on some kind of treatment that kills cancer cells. He was a little vague on the details but it sounds interesting and worthwhile. Why he thinks it's the "key to immortality", though, I don't know. Curing cancer won't stop people from dying - after all, everybody has to die from something._

_February 21st, 1998_

_We've finished developing the treatment - except it's not at all what we were expecting to have produced. Jon and Alistair are saying that it's a sort of new virus that will cure all ills and make people live forever. Jon's so excited about it, and he's naming it after our daughter. I'm very proud of what I've helped to create - the possibilities for advancing the human race are so incredible that I can hardly believe what we've done. Immortality could finally be within our grasp!_

What I'm most delighted about is the fact that this will help to build a better future for Lisa. To let our little girl live forever, to never see her sicken or age or die… what greater gift could a mother and father give to their child?

_February 22nd, 1998_

_That idiot Hazlitt wants to use our "L-Virus" in a new bioweapons project! Jon is fuming, and Alistair looks like he's ready to go and jump out of the office window. I can't believe they want to corrupt and abuse this wondrous creation by turning it into a deadly disease, instead of using it for the greater good of humanity… how could anybody be so callous and stupid? Either way, I don't want any part in this dreadful scheme of theirs, but Jon seems resigned to it. Why won't he do something?_

_March 5th, 1998_

_They've finished building the new laboratory and the research team has been set up. There's no turning back now. Work starts tomorrow. I'm dreading the moment I step in through those doors…_

Lisa flicked through page after page of her mother's despair. Sadness and regret seemed to have soaked right into the very paper the words were written on, as if the ink were tears.

_June 20th, 1998_

_Oh, God. They've been bringing live human subjects into the complex for experimentation - and one of them is our daughter's best friend. I told them to let her go but I fear that it's already too late. Now Charlotte Lascelles is probably just another lab specimen floating in a tank. How can we go home and look our daughter in the eye, knowing that our work has murdered her best friend? Sooner or later she's going to comment on Charlotte's disappearance, and I don't know how I'll be able to keep this from her. But I have to. I just have to._

_June 28th, 1998_

_People have been complaining about the workload, so they've brought in a whole bunch of lab assistants to help with the work. Few, if any, know the truth about what they're doing here. I pity them, working so hard and unwittingly helping to commit atrocities far beyond the bounds of normal imaginations. If only they knew the truth about the L-Project…_

_June 30th, 1998_

_As if I didn't have enough to worry about, Lisa's found herself a new best friend - a scruffy-looking downtown boy called Jack. He's totally obliterated a whole bed full of my prize yellow tulips after some foolish skating trick, and I've banned him from ever coming to the house again. He's a bad influence and I don't want him hanging round my daughter. I don't want Lisa to fall into bad company and be led astray - I love her too much to let that happen._

_July 4th, 1998_

_I've seen enough horror down here in this hell of a laboratory. I begged Jon to stop the L-Project but he says he won't. In desperation, I went to Dr Hazlitt and told him I was resigning, but then - I can hardly bring myself to write this - he told me that if I left the L-Project, then he will see to it that "something happens" to my daughter._

I'm terrified. I don't want any part in this evil project, but if I leave, then they'll kill Lisa. I don't have any choice - I have to stay here and continue the project, for the sake of my precious little girl. If anything happened to her, I would never forgive myself.

To think that I should find myself trapped in this nightmare, on Independence Day of all days… oh, the irony of it. However, I know I have to stop this project, even if it's the last thing I do…

Lisa felt sick again. Her life had been in grave danger, and she'd never even realised it. No wonder her parents had been so serious, so irritable and fraught. How could you be anything else, when you were being blackmailed into committing crimes against humanity, and you knew that your only daughter would be murdered if you didn't do as you were told? Suddenly she felt deeply sorry for her parents. Their anguish must have been unbearable.

_July 5th, 1998_

_I talked to Janice Redmond today and she was very sympathetic. I like Janice; she's a very kind woman, and probably the only other member of the research team with any trace of human kindness in her heart. I can't help but wonder why she agreed to join this project. Perhaps they threatened her, too?_

Janice also mentioned her desire to create a cure for the L-Virus but said sadly that it would be difficult or even impossible to do so, considering that we're being ordered to make it incurable. I told her to go ahead and try anyway. Once I'm done, she'll soon find out that it won't be as "incurable" as it seems… yes. I'm going to sabotage the L-Project. In little ways, of course. Some deliberate mistakes here, some incorrect results there, some "accidentally" contaminated material… nobody will ever know it was me.

_July 27th, 1998_

_Jon seems very depressed. I think the Spencer mansion incident has really bothered him, especially after his own involvement in the original T-Virus research. Dr Marcus may be missing, presumed dead, but that bitter and twisted old man still haunts my poor husband to this very day._

_July 30th, 1998_

_Well, that's it. They've finished the so-called "incurable" L-Virus. Hah. Incurable, my left buttock. It's not incurable at all - I saw to that. I have a feeling that Janice will be starting work on a cure any day now, if she hasn't done so already. I sincerely hope that she succeeds. I'd help her myself if I wasn't so afraid of being caught._

_July 31st, 1998_

_Blast. I've lost my necklace… now I have to wait until Janice arrives before we can get into the lab in the mornings, and she's always late. God only knows where it's gone. I've searched the house, the car and the entire lab complex, but there's no sign of it - I guess it must have fallen off when I went upstairs to the Bacteriology Department the other day to borrow some equipment. I just hope nobody's found it. If Hazlitt and Lampeter found out that I've lost the key to the lab… well, I don't even want to think about it. I'd better go and look for it again tomorrow._

_August 16th, 1998_

_Oh, the folly. The horror. Why did we ever create the L-Virus in the first place? It's horrible. God, it's so horrible. We've created a monster…_

Of course, Dr Hazlitt is praising us to the high heavens, and he's christened the monstrosity "Lucifer". So much for naming this project after our beloved daughter. They've taken this whole thing and twisted it to their own evil ends. How ironic that the thing should be called Lucifer - once the greatest of God's angels, and now the most evil thing in all of God's creation, an abomination unto the world.

We never meant for this to happen. We never meant for people to get hurt. All we wanted was to make the world a better place. Instead we ended up creating our own personal vision of hell. What have we done?

So their intentions had been noble after all. They'd tried to create something good, only to see it taken away and turned into something unspeakably evil - and they were all but powerless to stop it. She could only guess at how that must have felt.

_September 7th, 1998_

_Lisa's grounded. She told me last night that she was going over to a friend's house, but she ended up coming home well after midnight - and she'd been at a party with that downtown boy. Why doesn't she understand how worried I am about her? It's not safe to walk around the city at night, especially now that the T-Virus is starting to infect people here too. I know she hates me for it, but I just want her to be safe. Every day I wake up knowing that she's in just as much danger as Jon and I, and the pain is almost too much to bear. I love her so much… and the tragic thing is that I barely even see her any more because of the work we're doing._

We used to be so close - Lisa was my little princess, my little angel, but she's like a complete stranger to me now. I don't even know my own daughter any more… I'm miserable. Miserable and ashamed. Lisa deserves better than this. No wonder she hates me. I hate myself even more for not being a better mother.

_September 12th, 1998_

_This is like some kind of terrible dream. Lisa called Jon at work yesterday and told him to come home because Beatrice was sick. We came home straight away and found out that Beatrice was infected. She's in hospital now. Finding out that your daughter's babysitter is slowly turning into a zombie probably isn't every parent's worst nightmare, but it was certainly mine. I'm still out of my mind with worry - I want to stay at home and keep an eye on Lisa to make sure that she's okay, but I have to stay here and worry myself sick instead._

_September 13th, 1998_

_It's Sunday but we had to rush into work today - again. We found out that Beatrice had died and realised that we had to go into work. The virus is slowly spreading through town, which means we'll probably have a full-scale outbreak in a matter of weeks. Our emergency file transfer procedures have to be carried out before that happens. Yet another Sunday spent at work that was meant to be spent at home with Lisa…_

Of course, Lisa didn't understand, and she was furious that we had to leave her on her own again. My poor baby. I hate leaving her like this, because I know how little time we spend together. But once this thrice-damned project is over, I'll make it up to her. I'll give up work and spend all my time at home again, trying to get to know my daughter again before it's too late.

A teardrop fell onto the page, smudging the last few unbearably poignant words of the entry. She'd behaved abominably, never knowing the agony that her mother had been going through. If only she'd known…

_September 23rd, 1998_

_We have an emergency on our hands. There's been a T-Virus spill in the sewers, and more and more people are contracting the virus. Soon everybody in the town will be infected. Since the first cases were reported in the papers, I've told Jon over and over that we have to leave town - and now is our last chance to get out of Raccoon City._

_September 24th, 1998_

_Too late. It's too late for us to get out now. We tried for hours this morning to leave town, but they've put up barricades and roadblocks. Nobody's getting out of Raccoon City now. I feel like I've failed my daughter. She's in real danger now, and it's all our fault. If only I could have persuaded Jon that we needed to leave town sooner, or at the very least, got Lisa out of the city and found somewhere safe for her to stay… I don't know what's going to happen next. I'm writing this at my desk in work, knowing that we won't be allowed to leave this laboratory until the outbreak has been contained. All I can think of is my little girl, all alone in an empty house, with zombies walking in the streets outside. My little girl… she's all grown up now. I just pray that she's grown up enough to be able to take care of herself for a little while._

Lisa closed the diary slowly, then sobbed until she thought her heart would snap in two. She'd never known, never understood her parents, especially her mother - until she'd read these two diaries. And if they were dead now, then they were lost to her forever, and she'd never be able to apologise, or tell them that she loved them.

"Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry… I love you both… oh, please don't be dead, please, please, _please,_ God, _please_ don't let them be dead, I treated them like dirt and I never told them how much I loved them, and I'm so sorry…!"

When she finally ran out of tears, she took a deep breath. Everything was clear now. Her parents hadn't been evil people. They'd been caught up in something that was far, far bigger than they were, and they were too scared of what might happen if they defied the company that had threatened to kill their daughter. This hadn't been their fault. This was Umbrella's doing.

She had to find them. Find them, and hug them tightly, and seek their love and forgiveness. But first -

"Jack!"

She'd been so wrapped up in her own misery that she'd almost forgotten that Jack still needed her help. She had to get back to the shelter quickly!

The diaries and the family photograph went into her backpack. If she'd been too late to save her parents, then those would be her only reminders of them, and she had to keep them safe. She was pretty sure she had everything now.

Her grip tightened on the hamster cage, and she headed for the door. But just as she was about to open it, the hamsters went wild again, scurrying madly around their cage as if competing in a Formula 1 Hamster Grand Prix.

"What's the matter, guys?" she said.

Then she heard the footsteps from outside, and felt the floor shake beneath her feet.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

She held her breath, and waited for what she knew would happen next, hoping desperately that there was a chance she might be wrong.

There wasn't. Outside, something drew a rasping breath, then growled:

"Kill…"

xxxxxxxxxx

"Her name's Thérèse," said Renée shakily. "She's older than me. My big sister. She was the bright one; the one my parents expected to do really well in life. She was their favourite."

Dr Harlech made a point of listening very carefully, and waited for Renée to carry on.

"Don't get me wrong, I wasn't jealous of her. I didn't mind that Thérèse was their favourite. I knew they loved me too," Renée continued. "It wasn't like they hated me or anything. Thérèse was just… special. Very talented, and incredibly bright. Always did well at school, played the violin beautifully, wrote wonderful stories and painted pictures so gorgeous they could make you cry."

She sighed.

"And then, just before she was due to leave for university, she got sick. They didn't know what was wrong with her, so they took her to the hospital. They found out she was dying."

"I'm sorry," said Dr Harlech solemnly. "That must have been very hard for you. What was wrong with her?"

"She was diagnosed with some sort of rare disease," said Renée. "It was curable, but it was in an advanced stage and it was life-threatening. It had to be treated at once. The treatment was very, _very_ expensive, but needless to say, my parents paid up for the first treatment right away. Anything for Thé, because she was _special_. I know they wouldn't have done it for me."

"So what happened next?" said Dr Harlech, who felt it was important to show that she was taking an interest in what Renée was saying. Her very life probably depended on it.

"My parents kept paying for the treatments until they ran out of money," said Renée. "After that, they started selling everything we had so they could keep paying for it. Things were okay for a while, and she was starting to get better, but then we ran out of things to sell. We couldn't afford to keep paying for Thé's treatment any more, and she started getting worse again."

"What happened after that?" said Dr Harlech, her morbid curiosity getting the better of tact.

"Well, she kept getting worse and worse, until my parents thought she was about to die," said Renée. "And then one day a bunch of guys in suits came knocking at the door. They told us that they were from the local branch of Umbrella Incorporated, and that they'd heard about Thé's illness. They told us that they were willing to help us out, and they agreed to pay for Thé's treatments until she got better."

"Nice of them," said Dr Harlech. "So what was the catch? Umbrella's like the Mafia - it never helps anybody out without expecting something in return."

"You're quite right," said Renée. "They did want something back from us."

"What did they want?" said Dr Harlech.

Renée smiled weakly.

"Me," she said. "They wanted me."

"Why you?" said Dr Harlech, confused.

"Well, what they _actually _said was that in return for paying for my sister's medical treatment, they wanted somebody from our family to come and work for them for a certain amount of time, until they decided that the debt had been paid off," Renée explained. "My dad already had a job at the local factory, and my mother had to stay at home and take care of my sister. No prizes for guessing who was sent to work for Umbrella."

"You," said Dr Harlech instantly.

Renée grinned, and now she looked more like the Renée that Dr Harlech had first got to know.

"Yep," she said. "But you still don't get a prize. So, since I was hopeless at science, they enlisted me in the UBCS and sent me off to the nearest training camp. I spent six months learning how to be a soldier, and I paid my wages straight back to Umbrella to pay off my family's debts. They let me keep a small amount so I could buy essential kit, but that was it. As soon as my training finished, they sent me on a couple of easy assignments - and then they sent me here. My first real mission."

Dr Harlech let this sink in for a moment.

"You said your sister was about to go to university?" she said. "So she must be about twenty-one, there or thereabouts. And she's the older one, right?"

Renée nodded.

"Then… how old are you, Renée?" said Dr Harlech, frowning. "I figured you were about twenty-two or twenty-three, twenty-four at the outside."

"Not even close," said Renée, shaking her head. "I'm nineteen. Nineteen years old."

Dr Harlech almost choked.

"You're only nineteen?" she said, gawping. "And they sent you into this hellhole to _kill_ me?"

"Well… not exactly," Renée admitted. "They told our unit that we were being sent in to rescue uninfected civilians from the zombies and evacuate them from the city. Sounded simple enough. Nice first mission for a young mercenary, with some handsome rewards if I did good. But of course it turned out to be anything but simple."

"I don't get it," said Dr Harlech cautiously. "Not to encourage you or anything, but I thought you were being sent here to kill me like the mangy, treacherous twenty-seven-year old dog that I am?"

"You're twenty-seven?" said Renée, eyebrows arching in surprise.

"Yes."

"Really? You don't look it," Renée commented.

"Thank you," said Dr Harlech, smiling despite the fact that there was still a gun being pointed directly at her head. "That's very kind."

"Yeah, you look a lot older."

Dr Harlech's smile promptly disappeared.

"Now that wasn't nice," she chided the young mercenary. "Where are your manners?"

Renée looked around theatrically.

"Manners are like yoghurts, they go bad if you don't use them," said Dr Harlech. "My mother always used to say that."

"Yoghurt gives me a rash."

"And I'll give you a slap if you don't start respecting your elders and betters," warned Dr Harlech, then remembered who was pointing the gun at whom. Which reminded her…

"Speaking of your elders and betters, let's get back to the whole "being ordered to kill me" thing," she said. "You said your first mission wasn't as simple as just rescuing civilians from zombies. Why not?"

"Because I found out that our mission was all a lie. We hadn't been sent in to rescue civilians - they just wanted us to collect combat data from the monsters roaming the city. They were using us as guinea pigs all along, and we'd never even suspected a thing. After that, and learning that they weren't even going to promote me to Corporal like they'd promised, I decided that I'd had enough. No job is worth having to fight giant zombie cockroaches."

"So you meant what you said about wanting to take Umbrella down?" said Dr Harlech.

"Every word," said Renée firmly. "I didn't want their money. I was going to get a real job and pay for Thé's medical treatment myself."

"Then why…?" began Dr Harlech.

"Why do this?" said Renée, finishing the sentence. "Simple answer. Christina."

"Christina?" said Dr Harlech, now beginning to look utterly baffled. "What's she got to do with all this?"

"It was Christina who told me the truth about our so-called "mercy mission"," said Renée. "She knew because she hadn't been given the same orders as us, even though she was brought in with the rest of our units. She's here on a special assignment. And shortly before Jack and Lisa found me and brought me back to save you and Amber from the Tyrant, I ran into her again, and we had a little chat about our mission objectives."

"I doubt she had anything good to say about what you had in mind," said Dr Harlech.

"Well, put it like this. She was not a happy bunny. But she was kind enough to offer me a new alternative to my original lousy orders."

"Which were?"

"Kill you."

"That doesn't sound too kind to me."

"That's the problem," said Renée wretchedly. "Those orders sucked even more. But she told me that if I didn't help her out, then she'd tell Umbrella that I'd refused to obey orders and abandoned the rest of my unit. She told me that if they found out I'd deserted, they'd shoot me and let my sister die. I can't let Thé down! I can't let them kill her! She's my sister, and I love her, even if my parents did like her better than me! I can't let her die!"

To Dr Harlech's intense discomfort, Renée started to cry. This was a problem. If Renée didn't kill her, then she would die and so would her sister. But if she did, then she, Dr Harlech, would be dead. The outcome wasn't good, no matter which way you looked at it. Worse, she had absolutely no idea what to do with a distressed but armed woman with some severe personal conflicts.

_Aaargh. What to do? Sympathy might get me shot. Not showing sympathy might get me shot. Talking her out of this will get her shot. Oh, hell__…__ why does the universe hate me?_

After much deliberation, Dr Harlech decided on empathy.

"If it helps," she ventured, "I actually have the same problem as you. Umbrella threatened to make me homeless if I didn't work on this project for them. Did I tell you that?"

Renée, wiping her eyes, shook her head.

"Yes, it's true. When I tried to resign, they had a little chat with me, and they, ahem, _gently reminded _me that if I left the company, then I'd lose everything. My home, my car, my pension and my free healthcare, and a lot more besides. The words "severely dealt with" were mentioned a couple of times, which is a slightly less menacing way of saying "you'll be repeatedly run over by a company car in the parking lot, _pour décourager les autres_". Now I'm not married, don't have any kids, and my sister's too important for them to get rid of, so I didn't really have to worry about my family getting hurt, but I did value my own life rather highly, so I kept working. And you know, now I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd let them run me over instead. The guilt wasn't worth it. It really wasn't."

Dr Harlech was aware that Renée was watching her intently, hanging on her every word. The sheer intensity of the girl's stare was frightening her even more than the battle with the Tyrant had. She knew only too well that what she said next could either save her life or end it. It was possibly the single most nerve-wracking moment of her life.

She licked her dry lips nervously and said:

"I made my choice, Renée. Now it's your turn to do the same. You know in your heart what's right and what's wrong, and if you believe that it's right to kill me, then… I won't stop you. Just don't make my mistake and let fear get in the way of your principles, because it'll haunt you for the rest of your life. Trust me. I learned that the hard way."

Renée stared at her, her arm still outstretched, the gun still pointing exactly the same way. She was quivering all over. Dr Harlech watched her finger slowly curling around the trigger.

_This is it_, she thought._ I__'__m going to die. Funny, I never thought it would end this way__…__ but then I never really thought it would end at all. I was wrong, that__'__s for certain. It__'__s going to end, right here and now, and I deserve it. I never should have done what I did._

She closed her eyes tightly, screwing up her face as she braced herself for the shot, and waited for the end. She was prepared for death, but she wasn't prepared for the scream.

"No! I won't do it! I can't!"

Her eyes shot open again, just in time to see Renée throw the gun aside.

"You helped me," said Renée, starting to cry again. "You were there for me when I was hurt and I needed help, and you fixed me up. You were kind to me even though I didn't deserve it. You - you even played dumb games with me to pass the time and didn't call me a moron. You're probably the best friend I've ever had. And Lisa's right, you can't just shoot your best friend dead. I can't believe I even thought - I'm so _sorry_!"

Dr Harlech suddenly found herself being hugged by a bawling mercenary, and wondered why the world seemed to single her out for weird situations. Nevertheless, she hugged Renée back. She obviously needed it.

"There, there," she said feebly. "It's okay. I'm still your friend. Amber's tried to kill me several times, and she's still my friend. I don't see why I should make an exception for you. Quite odd how all my friends want to kill me, really. I wonder what I'm doing wrong?"

She heard muffled laughter from her shoulder.

"There. Are we friends now? The not-trying-to-kill-each-other variety?" she said.

Renée looked up, and nodded.

"Glad to hear it. But do satisfy my curiosity. What exactly is Christina's "special assignment"?" said Dr Harlech.

"Christina's from a different part of the UBCS," said Renée, drying her eyes. "It deals with assassinating people who make life difficult for Umbrella, and it also serves as bodyguards for important Umbrella employees, picking off would-be assassins and protecting the VIPs. It's chock-full of the most ruthless and efficient mercenaries, every one a cold-blooded killer. We call it the Death Squad. Christina was originally sent here for you and one other person, but after our little discussion she sent me after you."

"Who's the other person?" said Dr Harlech.

"Take a guess," said Renée.

Dr Harlech thought for a moment.

"Uh-oh," she concluded.

"Uh-oh is correct," agreed Renée. "Right now she's probably hiding somewhere downstairs and waiting for Amber to walk right into the crosshairs."

"We can't let her do that! Amber mustn't die!" said Dr Harlech.

"I know she's our friend, but we can't leave Jack alone - we promised Lisa we'd stay here and take care of him," said Renée.

"Yes, that too," concluded Dr Harlech. "But Christina mustn't get hold of that briefcase Amber's carrying. And if she finds out what else Amber's carrying - well, I don't even want to think about the consequences."

"Huh? What do you mean? What else _is _Amber carrying?" said Renée, puzzled.

"The necklace that Amber's wearing is vitally important," said Dr Harlech. "Christina can't be allowed to get it."

"I know it's the laboratory key and everything, but why is it so important?" said Renée. "What is it, the elixir of life or something?"

"If only," said Dr Harlech. "Then it wouldn't be so bad if she got hold of it, even if it did mean the Earth had to put up with an immortal Christina for the rest of eternity."

"I really don't get it. What's so important about it?" said Renée, frowning.

Dr Harlech winced.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell anybody," she said. "I thought if nobody else knew what the necklace was, then it wouldn't matter if I destroyed the sample."

"Sample?" said Renée. "The sample of what?"

Dr Harlech wrestled with her conscience for a moment, but her conscience won, and reminded her that telling the truth was the right thing to do. At a time like this, she wasn't about to argue with her conscience.

"The L-Virus," she said, giving in. "Inside the pendant of that necklace is the last remaining sample of the completed L-Virus. Christina mustn't be allowed to take it from Amber. If Umbrella gets hold of the L-Virus, then we're all as good as dead."


	39. Cure For The Itch

****

39: Cure For The Itch

Lisa put down the hamster cage, very slowly, then flung herself under the desk, curling up into a ball and stuffing her fist in her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

It was right outside. That thing they called Lucifer, the thing that just wouldn't die, was right outside the room - and if it walked in, then she wouldn't walk out of here alive. What the hell was she going to do?

_Keep walking_, she silently implored. _Just keep walking past. Keep walking past, and go away…_

But the footsteps had stopped, a few feet from the door. It had paused outside, apparently to sniff the air.

Oh God. Could it smell her from in here? Was that how it had tracked her down?

"No, no, no," she mouthed, too terrified to make a sound. "Oh, no, please, not now! Not when I'm so close to saving Jack!"

Even the hamsters had stopped moving now. They were peering silently through the bars of the cage, looking every bit as fearful as Lisa felt. It was as if they somehow knew exactly what was beyond that door, and what the creature would do if it found them. They were trembling almost as much as she was.

"Kill…"

The hairs on the back of Lisa's neck stood on end as she heard Lucifer speak again. Her muscles were tense, and her breath was cold and sharp in her chest. Biting down on her knuckles, she stayed stock-still and waited, trying to keep her breathing as quiet and slow as she could. She felt certain that the creature could hear the pounding of her heart, even from outside the room.

She almost wished that the thing called Lucifer would smash its way into the room, if only to break the tension. It was taking every ounce of her self-control just to suppress the urge to whimper quietly. So much for survival instincts. Her body seemed hell-bent on its own destruction; only her higher brain functions were keeping her alive right now.

Lisa looked down at the weapons she was carrying. The handgun was no good. She doubted if the assault rifle would do much good either. The monster seemed impervious to bullets, not to mention fiery explosions and falls from great heights. There was nothing she could do to destroy it, and so many things it could do to destroy her; it could probably snap her like a twig if it wanted to.

No, there was no defeating the thing. She had to get out of here, or she'd die. But how? Her only possible escape routes were the door - no, scratch that, the door was an impossible escape route when there was a ten-foot monster standing right behind it. The _only _way out was through the air ducts.

The ventilation shaft looked big enough to fit through. However, it was on the other side of the room. She'd have to get out from under the desk, pick up the hamster cage, climb up onto the _other_ desk, take the grille off, get the hamster cage in, push it along the inside of the air duct and then climb in herself - all without making a sound.

She couldn't do it. There was no way she'd be able to do all that quickly, and without making any noise at all. Then again, her only other option was running out of the door screaming blue murder and then being killed thirty seconds later by Lucifer. Thirty seconds was probably erring on the generous side, too. Compared to that, attempting to escape noiselessly into the ventilation system was a picnic.

What baffled her was why the creature was chasing her in the first place. Why her? What had she done to deserve being hounded to her death by this thing?

Well, her parents had created it, so maybe there was sort of a Frankenstein's monster motive there, with the creation returning to wreak revenge on its creators. Some mysterious animal instinct must be telling it that she shared the same DNA as the two people who had given it life, or what might just pass for life in a poor light.

Or maybe it had simply seen her somewhere and decided that she was its new prey? No, that wouldn't make sense. It was created to be a bioweapon, not an animal, so it wasn't designed to attack things at random. And of course, Dr Harlech had told them that it was after her too, hadn't she?

It must be hunting down anyone who had anything to do with the L-Project…

Sudden movement from outside the door told Lisa that Lucifer was on the move again. It was getting closer… closer still…

Lisa steeled herself to begin her frenzied last-ditch escape plan, but just as she crept out from under the desk, she heard the footsteps pass by the door. Freezing mid-movement, not daring to alter her position, she waited and hoped that - yes! It was actually going away. The footsteps were fading into the distance. Soon they were barely audible, and then they had gone completely.

Lisa waited until she was certain that the creature had gone, then she got up, picked up the hamster cage, and carried out her original escape plan. Out of earshot was _not_ out of mind, and she wasn't sure if Lucifer really had gone, or whether it was simply standing further down the corridor, waiting patiently for her to leave the room and walk right into its clutches. At least if she escaped through the air ducts, it couldn't follow her inside even if it tried.

The screws on the grille covering the air duct stumped her at first. Her parents didn't keep screwdrivers in their desk drawers - she'd checked - but her father had been thoughtful enough to leave a letter-opener in the second drawer of his desk. It was sword-shaped; a souvenir from a long-ago family visit to a museum, where she dimly recalled some suits of armour and a vaguely medieval theme.

The letter-opener turned out to be just what she needed. She unscrewed each of the four screws, observing with quiet satisfaction that Christina had taken a _lot_ longer to do the same thing, then she tucked the letter-opener into a spare pocket and lifted up the hamster cage.

"In you go, little ones," she said, pushing the cage into the air duct, then giving it a good shove so that there would be room for her to climb in.

For the second time in only a few hours, Lisa climbed up and into the ventilation shafts of the L-Project lab complex, and started to crawl through the dark ducts, her exact destination unknown.

It was a slow and painful process. Her back and shoulders were aching from the posture that she was being forced to adapt as she worked her way through the ventilation shaft, and every few feet, she had to stop crawling and push the hamster cage further ahead of her before she could move on.

She was on the right track, though - she was sure of it. Coming up on her right was a turning, and unless she was mistaken, that turning would lead back into the corridor, a few yards away from the entrance to the shelter.

Pushing the hamster cage further up the duct leading onwards gave her just enough room to manoeuvre herself round the corner. She was now facing the grille which, as she'd expected, overlooked the exact place that she'd been expecting to stop at. Further down the hall, though you couldn't really see it from this distance, was the entrance to the shelter - just as she remembered. Now, to unscrew the grille…

The screws were on the outside. Lisa groaned. She wasn't sure what she was going to do now. Still, she had to get out of here somehow.

She reached for the letter-opener and inserted the blade into the thin gap between the wall and the grille, hoping to separate the two. Metal creaked as she worked the letter-opener back and forth, using it to try and lever the grille out of the wall. The blade of the letter-opener was bending, but so was the metal of the grille; it was difficult to tell which was going to give way first.

In the end, it was the grille that gave way. The two screws attaching the top two corners to the wall popped out and flew across the corridor, landing on the floor with a _ping_, and then the grille simply dropped open.

Lisa tucked the letter-opener into the waistband of her jeans, then she crept backwards, turned herself right around and grabbed the hamster cage. Slowly and cautiously, she worked her way backwards towards the opening, dragging the hamster cage after her. It wasn't going to be the easiest of exits, and she hadn't given much thought to the drop down to the floor, but at least she'd make it back in one piece, even if that piece was going to end up rather bruised.

Her legs dangling from the opening, Lisa wriggled backwards until she was almost out, then she let herself drop out of the air duct, pulling the hamster cage with her as she fell.

She thought she'd been prepared for it, but the sudden drop still took her by surprise. With a little shriek, Lisa fell backwards, landing heavily on her rear end. The weight of the hamster cage landing straight in her arms forced her onto her back, and she hit the back of her head on the floor.

"Ugh… that's going to hurt in the morning," said Lisa to herself, rubbing the back of her head as she got to her feet. She picked up the hamster cage - the hamsters seemed a little shaken by their experience, but were otherwise fine - and walked straight into something solid and unyielding.

She looked up, and her eyes widened in horror as she saw what she'd walked into. It really was _very _clever…

"KILL!"

xxxxxxxxxx

Shuddering with disgust as cobwebs brushed her face, Amber made her way through the musty darkness. She'd wrongly thought that the shelter must have been the lowest level of the Umbrella building; in fact, there was a vast honeycomb of old forgotten rooms and passages beneath it, the very air inside them thick with the dust of decades.

The torch beam was getting fainter, she was sure of it. The strong beam of white light was now yellow and wavering, and it was growing progressively dimmer the further she walked. She wasn't sure what she would do if the battery suddenly ran out, leaving her in complete darkness, but she didn't want to find out. She started to walk a little faster.

In the deepening shadows she could see crates of wood and metal, some stamped with what appeared to be an early version of the Umbrella logo, but most of them left unmarked, their contents a mystery. She wondered what they contained, but wasn't particularly anxious to investigate. If they were Umbrella's property, they could contain absolutely anything.

The rooms she'd seen on her way through the main passage were huge, like darkened cathedrals stacked full of crates and old, rusting equipment. Nobody had been here for a long time, that was for certain. Amber guessed that these must have been storerooms for emergency supplies and equipment, built as part of long-ago contingency plans and later forgotten about.

But somebody hadn't forgotten about them…

Amber squinted down at the floor, turning the torch beam down towards her feet. She'd thought she was imagining things, but no, there were scuffed footprints in the thick dust, heading in the opposite direction. They were slightly fuzzy around the edges where the dust had begun to settle again, but they were still distinct enough to be fairly recent.

Now that she looked closer, she could see several sets of footprints, all leading in different directions. Some were from sneakers, some from boots, and there were even one or two sets of bare footprints. They were widely spaced, as if their owners had been running, and they led to the various rooms behind her.

And then there was the enormous set of footprints, so big that she thought they couldn't possibly be real. They reminded her of the time many years ago when she and her little brother Jason had bought a set of giant feet from the joke shop, just before Christmas, and used them to make prints in the snow. They'd claimed they were yeti tracks, and half the neighbourhood had come outside to look.

That had been funny, especially when old Mrs Buford had run back inside her house screaming that Bigfoot was coming to get them all. But the sight of these footprints wasn't funny at all. It terrified Amber, because she knew that whatever had made these footprints was no joke.

The big footprints had been following the other, smaller sets of footprints, as if the thing that had made them had been chasing their owners. Whatever the thing was, it had obviously caught up with the others; there were dark reddish-brown spots in the dust. Further down the corridor was a solitary brown shoe, lying forlornly in the dust. She could only guess what had happened to its original owner.

The weakening torch beam began to flicker. Amber panicked and started to shake it, in the vain hope that this would keep the battery alive for a little longer. The flickering stopped for a moment, then the dim light waned suddenly and faded to a pinprick and an afterglow. Seconds later, this vanished too, and Amber found herself standing in total darkness.

Panic surfaced, but Amber firmly pushed it back down into her mind and kept it there. This was probably an ideal opportunity to panic, but she wasn't going to do so. She needed to keep a clear head and decide what to do next. People who panicked made stupid mistakes.

Amber shook the torch one more time, but the battery had completely died. Sighing, she tucked it into her belt and reached for the lighter in her shirt pocket. After two attempts and some sparks, a flame rose up and brought light into Amber's life again. It was small, but it gave enough light for her to see by, and that was good enough for her.

Now… which way? She could go backwards, back up the stairs and into the safety of the underground shelter. They could fight their way out through the zombies, leave the lab and go back up to the lobby so they could leave the same way they came in. Or she could carry on through these dark catacombs, going wherever they led her. She might find freedom, or get eaten by something hiding down here, or discover that she'd come to a dead end and that there was no way out.

She knew which one she would end up doing, of course. This was one of those situations where you were seemingly given a choice, but the vote was rigged and you'd end up with the undesirable option regardless of which one you'd actually chosen. She just _knew _she'd end up carrying on, it being her unpleasant duty to investigate possible escape routes and make sure the way was clear for the others.

She was really wishing that she'd become an orthodontist now. Then again, if she'd trained as an orthodontist and not a police officer, she would be dead by now, having no survival skills, no weapons experience, no knowledge of Umbrella and the T-virus, and worst of all, no idea how to deal with the undead.

_All right then,_ she thought, _I wish I'd become an orthodontist who'd set up her orthodontic surgery a long, long way from Raccoon City. Like New York. Or Los Angeles. Or… or Siberia. Yeah, I wish I was a Siberian orthodontist who, if asked where Raccoon City was, would say "Raccoon where?" in Russian, then carry on fixing up Mr Njinsky's retainer and have no problems at all, except maybe frostbite._

But wishing wouldn't change the world. She wasn't a Siberian orthodontist, and never would be. Resigned to her fate, Amber walked on, holding the lighter aloft and letting the wavering flame light her way forward.

Some time later, her footsteps led her to a pair of large wooden doors at the end of the passage. From what she could see in the gloom, the double doors were old, dusty and covered in odd stains, and there were cracks where the wood had started to split. Anticipating that age and poor maintenance had made the doors fragile, Amber pushed down on one of the door handles very gently, then gave the door a gentle nudge.

It opened onto something that Amber hadn't been expecting at all. She'd expected another old and musty storeroom full of stacked crates and forgotten items. Instead she found herself looking at a spotlessly clean room the size of a basketball court. It had been divided into two equal sections by a vast floor-to-ceiling glass partition. One half was a laboratory/medical centre with an operating table and various pieces of medical equipment in the middle of the floor, and the other half…

The other half was a maze. This was no metaphor; it was a labyrinth with concrete walls, rather like the ones that scientists made laboratory rats navigate for the purposes of research, but built on a massive scale. When Amber approached it, she realised that the glass wasn't glass at all, but a two-way mirror rather like the one they'd had in the interrogation room back at the police station. The people in the laboratory half had been observing something - but what?

From the dim light given off by her meagre light-source, Amber couldn't really tell, but she could just make out some dark stains on the floor and walls. She suddenly decided that she didn't want to know what had been going on in there.

"What _is _this place?" she said aloud.

Whatever it was, she didn't like it. It made her uneasy. It was too big and too dark, and even though the air in the room was cold, the atmosphere was strangely oppressive. She felt as though she was being crushed by the sheer amount of menace in the room.

Suspecting the worst, she took a look around. Up in the rafters, down at her feet, all around her - especially behind - and even peering through the glass into the other half of the room, for as long as she dared. None of these basic checks revealed any monsters, or anything amiss. Despite this, Amber had no intention of hanging around a moment longer than she had to, and she was overwhelmed with a deep sense of relief when she finally spotted a door on the other side of the room.

Muttering "Please be the exit, please be the exit, please be the exit…", she crossed the room and took hold of the door handle. Still anticipating the worst, she listened at the door, then threw it open and flung herself to the side, flattening herself against the wall as the door swung back on its hinges. Hideous, deadly bioweapons failed to hurl themselves through the door and tear Amber limb from limb with razor-sharp teeth and eight-foot tentacles. Nothing escaped the door but a thin, cold draught that caught a few locks of Amber's hair and made the strands of ginger and gold drift momentarily in the breeze.

It took some minutes before she dared to peer round the edge of the open door. When she finally plucked up the courage to look, she saw only a short and dingy corridor with two doors - one at the end of the corridor, and another, heavier-looking on the right-hand side. It was illuminated weakly by a cobweb-bedecked light, and the cobwebs were casting odd shadows on the walls and floor. Amber didn't mind, though; any light was better than none. She blew out the lighter and stepped into the corridor, taking care to close the door behind her.

The door on the right was unlikely to lead to freedom, given its position, but anything was worth a try. Amber opened it and went through.

Being a police officer, the first thing she thought of when she entered the room was "cell". She'd seen enough of them in her time to recognise a cell when she saw it, and this was most definitely a room designed to keep someone in and to stop them from getting out again.

One thing that reinforced this impression was the weight of the door as she went in. It was thick steel, quite heavy to open, with sturdy locks on the outside. Another was the interior decoration - bare concrete floor, whitewashed walls and a naked light bulb. The furnishings consisted of a stainless steel table and chair, both bolted to the floor, and a bed made up with a thin blanket, a stained pillow and a mattress that looked positively unsanitary.

There were odd things about the cell, on the other hand, which made her wonder about the exact purpose of the room. For one thing, there were the walls. Over the top of the whitewash someone had drawn elaborate geometric patterns in what appeared to be felt pen; lines, circles and rectangles of all shapes and sizes, stretching from floor to ceiling. Another were the cell's peculiar dimensions. The room was far bigger than any cell she'd ever seen, and the ceiling was unusually high.

But what made her most curious were the bullet-ridden paper targets pinned to the far wall. There were no guns in sight, and they certainly wouldn't have kept weapons in a cell. What were they doing here?

There was no sign of the occupant. Whoever he - or she - was had long gone. Released, escaped or dead, she didn't know, but there were a few papers on the desk that Amber hoped might give her some clues.

She picked them up and riffled through them. Most of the pages were covered with childlike scribbles in graphite and crayon, but some typewritten sheets caught her eye.

**FINAL L-VIRUS TEST NOTES**

Taken by Dr Guy LeMarc, Head of BOW Training

August 21st

The subject codenamed "Lucifer" was delivered to us at 05.00 hours and analysis of its capabilities began straight away. We first subjected "Lucifer" to a series of medical tests, including tests for motor function, reflexes and response to external stimuli such as light and sound. Blood tests were also taken.

The subject showed no decrease in motor function or reaction times, and when we tentatively subjected "Lucifer" to IQ tests, he performed surprisingly well. It seems that the subject has become even more intelligent following the introduction of the L-Virus into his body. Testing will continue as planned.

August 22nd

The subject has apparently retained no memories of his previous life, which is unsurprising. We were not expecting him to remember anything that happened before the testing, although physically he is capable of making new memories. He is able to recognise words and pictures as well as the staff's faces, he is fully aware of his surroundings, and he knows how to use simple everyday objects like chairs and beds. We will continue observing the subject as he settles into his new environment.

August 23rd

Already the subject is making extraordinary progress. One of my colleagues has succeeded in teaching "Lucifer" to speak, although how much is being learned and how much is remembered, we may never know. His memories of people and events prior to the testing have seemingly been erased, yet the subject still knows how to open doors and recognises words and pictures that we have not previously shown him. The subject can also obey simple instructions, and his level of understanding is deepening quickly - it should not be long before he is able to carry out highly complex tasks without supervision.

August 24th

This morning the subject was given a pencil and paper, and allowed to draw. Most of the pictures that were drawn were simple in design and poor in execution, rather like a child's drawings. However, these improved after an hour or so and became ever more sophisticated. "Lucifer" became quite irate when we attempted to take away the drawing materials this afternoon for the next round of testing, but we were able to distract him by showing him more cue cards and continuing the speech therapy. "Lucifer" now has a vocabulary of one hundred and fifty-eight words, and this is increasing at a remarkable rate. Some of the staff observing him while drawing believe that he may even be attempting to write, although it's too early to ascertain whether or not this is true.

August 25th

"Lucifer" made his first clear attempts to write early this morning, producing recognisable words and even realising that he was making errors - he corrected the spelling of the largest word twice. We are all amazed by his progress.

August 26th

Today marked the start of the subject's more advanced training. "Lucifer" was placed in the maze and told to find his way to the centre and back again. He did so in 17 mins and 6 secs. The average live human subject can take up to twenty-five minutes to complete the maze. Astonishing…

August 27th

The subject's combat training began today, starting with basic firearms operation. The subject was surprisingly adept at handling weapons and completely shredded the targets placed in his cell. This afternoon "Lucifer" was again placed in the maze, but this time we sent in five UBCS mercenaries condemned to death for desertion, ordering them to take "Lucifer" out. They were, indeed, condemned to death. The subject found his way out of the maze in 9 mins and 55 secs.

August 28th

The maze experiment was repeated with five more mercenaries who had been sent here as punishment for insubordination. We brought one of the senior L-Project members (whose name was Dr J. Hartleigh, if I recall correctly) to observe the proceedings, but after the first two mercenaries were killed Dr Hartleigh promptly made his excuses and left. He seemed to have been almost overcome by the progress that the subject was making. The subject's maze completion time was 4 mins and 8 secs.

August 29th

On this occasion we decided to stretch the subject's capabilities by letting him out of the test zone and giving him the run of the passages and rooms in between his cell and the door to the underground bunker. An assorted group of condemned prisoners brought here from the Rockfort Island prison were told that they would be released if they could escape from the subject unharmed. Needless to say, none of the prisoners succeeded in escaping "Lucifer". Their bodies have been decontaminated and returned to Rockfort Island for disposal. Ashford should have no problem with carrying out this task, although I'm told that his behaviour has been a tad erratic as of late. Perhaps he should be relieved of command… but no, it's not my place to comment on these matters. The company knows what it's doing.

August 30th

We discovered today that "Lucifer" has been using the pen we gave to him as a reward for the successful completion of yesterday's task to draw detailed schematics of this level on the walls of his cell. His memory is quite incredible. Our next step will be to train him to recognise faces in photographs so that he can hunt down selected targets and kill them. It is the firm belief of everyone in this room that he will make a superb assassin, especially as the subject's favourite word appears to be "Kill". Dr Hazlitt and Dr Lampeter are most impressed with the subject's rate of development and have rewarded my colleagues and I with a substantial cash bonus.

August 31st

For some reason we received word from Dr Hartleigh that the subject is to be taken back upstairs and returned to the stasis tank in his laboratory immediately. He seemed very anxious that "Lucifer" be restrained, sedated and confined to the tank, even though I personally assured him that the subject will not kill unless told to do so. Despite this, he remained unconvinced, and we have just received word that "Lucifer" will taken back upstairs this evening and returned to the stasis tank, to be kept under heavy sedation at all times. No matter. The fact is that the "Lucifer Project" has been a complete success, and that the combined results of the staff of this laboratory complex have successfully produced the toughest Umbrella bioweapon to date.

The report was signed and dated "Dr Guy LeMarc, August 31st 1998". There was, however, one final page, dated August 25th. Amber turned to it, and gasped. Written in huge, rather wobbly pencil letters, the thick pencil lead pressed heavily into the paper as if engraving stone, were the words:

**I AM L-U-S-I L-U-S-E-P-H LUCIFER**

Amber shivered. "Lucifer", whatever it (or he?) was, was obviously a very dangerous thing to be around. She pitied the unfortunate individuals who had met their deaths in the maze and the passages at the hands of this bioweapon, but more importantly, she hoped she wouldn't join them.

Folding the sheaf of notes and other papers in two, she slipped them into the briefcase, then wondered what to do next. She looked up at the wall that Lucifer had drawn on, frowned very slightly, and made an effort to interpret the map. This would have been simple enough, as the drawings looked very precise, but there were no labels to show her where she was, which way was North, and which way she was meant to be going.

"Let's see," she said aloud, putting a finger in the centre of a large square with a thin rectangle joining onto the end of it. The square was divided in two by a thin line.

"So that has to be the room I just left," she said to herself. "And this rectangle must be the corridor, and that means the square joined onto the right is where I am now. So if I go back out, down the corridor and through the other door…"

Her finger traced the possible route down the long, thin rectangle that she'd taken to represent the corridor outside, and stopped at a very large square, even bigger than the one that represented the room she'd just left. There was a long, thin rectangle in the centre of this room, stretching from one side of the square to the other, and some perfectly rounded circles on either side. Some attempt had been made here to employ perspective, making the perfect circles look as though they were somehow located beneath the thin rectangle.

"What on earth are those?" she said to herself, letting her finger trace the outline of one of the circles.

Oh well. No time to worry about that now; she had to move on again, into the very large square that presumably represented a very large room. She hoped that Lucifer was still in that tank and not wandering around somewhere down here. She dreaded to think what might happen if she ran into it…

xxxxxxxxxx

Lisa knew it was too late to run, but she made a brave attempt at it, forcing her unwilling legs from a standing start into a dead run.

Lucifer watched her with something like amusement for a second or two, then reached out and plucked Lisa right off the ground with one enormous hand. As Lisa was lifted up by her hair and the scruff of her neck, the hamster cage fell from her fingers and landed heavily on the floor. The hamsters were going insane again, half-crazed with the fear that Lucifer's presence engendered in all living things.

Twisting and struggling to escape, Lisa knew that even if there were a dozen Lickers waiting further down the hall, she couldn't possibly be in any more trouble than she was now. She was in Lucifer's clutches yet again, with very little chance of survival and absolutely no chance of rescue.

Her right hand reached down surreptitiously towards her belt, fumbling for the one item that could buy her a few more precious seconds.

"Kill…" hissed her captor, lifting her higher into the air.

"No!" she screamed. "I don't want to die! Put me down! Let me _go_!"

"Kill…"

"_No_!"

Acting out of blind terror and a wild hope of escape, Lisa snatched the letter-opener out of her waistband and stabbed wildly in the direction of Lucifer's face. The blade scraped uselessly across the creature's leathery, rotting skin.

Exhausted, terrified and despairing of any future life that she might have had, Lisa desperately lashed out one last time in the hope of hitting a sensitive spot, and this time, the blade of the letter-opener plunged into the monster's right eye.

Shocked by what she'd just done, Lisa could only watch in horror as dark liquid gushed out of the wound. She hadn't meant to do that, sensitive spot or not. Incredibly, Lucifer didn't even cry out. It simply growled "Kill…!" again, and swung Lisa around by her hair, slamming her against the wall.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisa could see the long purple tentacle snaking out of the creature's other hand, and she gulped. That tentacle meant a long, lingering and painful death, as Jack was finding out to his cost.

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. Jack wasn't going to die. He was going to get better because she _was _going to get that vaccine to him in time, no matter what.

Her gaze focused on the dagger-like letter-opener that was sticking out of Lucifer's eye, and an idea blossomed like a blood-red rose in the dark garden of her imagination.

"I _am _going to save Jack from the L-Virus," she told the monster, with a venomous edge in her voice that would have surprised anyone who knew her if they'd been present. "And nothing is going to stand in my way - not even _you_!"

With a shriek of rage she kicked out at Lucifer's face and forced her impromptu dagger even further into the creature's eye socket. There was a squelch and an unpleasant crack, and this now got a reaction; Lucifer staggered backwards, bellowing with rage and pain as it fumbled for the letter-opener, trying ineffectually to pull it back out of its skull.

Lisa dropped to the floor on all fours but didn't even stop to complain. She broke into a run, grabbing the hamster cage as she rushed past and then breaking into an even faster run. The entrance to the shelter was just a few yards away, and Lucifer didn't appear to be in a hurry to follow her just yet - if she could only get there in time and escape through the hatch before it even noticed that there was a hatch there, she'd be home and dry.

She didn't think she could run much further. Her chest was aching from the effort of breathing so hard, and her heart seemed ready to explode from overwork, but she was nearly there now. Just a few more yards…

There was an angry roar from behind her. Without warning, the bloodied letter-opener flashed past her head with a whistling noise and buried itself in the floor. Lisa didn't even bother looking back when she heard the series of loud tremors coming up behind her; she already knew what _that_ meant. Lucifer was in hot pursuit, and if she didn't get that hatch open before it caught her, then she might as well be floating in a tank alongside Charlotte in the secret testing laboratory for all the good it would do her.

A nasty little noise behind her pushed a split-second premonition into the forefront of Lisa's brain, and she leapt out of the way, rolling as she landed on the floor. She caught a glimpse of the long purple tentacle scything above her head, then scrambled to her hands and knees and started searching for the join in the floor which marked the entrance to the shelter.

Lucifer was still several feet away - the reach of that tentacle was remarkable, and if she wasn't so frightened then she would have marvelled at it - but it was getting closer by the minute, and her time was running out.

"Come on!" she screeched, still feeling for the place where she knew the hatch had to be. She could feel her death drawing closer, and this was the one thing that could push it away, but she couldn't find it…

At last, when all hope seemed lost, she found the tiny little raised edge and pulled it upwards as hard as she could. The hatch opened, just in time for Lucifer to appear.

Lisa panicked, grabbed the hamster cage and almost threw herself into the opening as Lucifer made a grab for her. It snarled as its fingers snatched at nothing but air. Gasping as she tried to get her breath back from running, Lisa pulled the hatch down.

Lucifer made another attempt to grab her, but it was too late - the hatch slammed shut.

"KILL!" it bellowed, enraged that its prey had escaped its clutches again.

On the other side of the now-sealed hatch, Lisa froze as she heard the huge fingers scrabbling at the join in the floor. But as the noise went on and on, with no sign of the hatch lifting, Lisa grinned to herself in the darkness. The monster's fingers were too big and clumsy to find the tiny, barely visible raised edge of the hatch. It couldn't open it!

After a while, the noise stopped. Lucifer had obviously given up in frustration. She heard one final, furious roar, and then the thundering footsteps slowly faded away. There was a distant crash, and then nothing. The creature had gone. Once again, she'd survived.

Elated, Lisa climbed down the ladder as best she could while holding the hamster cage, then let herself drop onto the floor, landing in an untidy, gasping heap at the foot of the ladder.

Dr Harlech and Renée, who had both been sitting gloomily against one wall of the shelter, looked up sharply and saw Lisa sprawled face-down on the floor, inexplicably clutching a hamster cage in one hand. Two hamsters, one black-and-white and the other a sandy colour, stared out at them, looking just as bewildered as the two women felt.

"Lisa!" they both cried, rushing to the teenage girl's side and helping her up. Lisa found herself being hugged tightly by Dr Harlech.

"Oh, honey, you made it!" cried the scientist. "We were so worried… we thought you weren't coming back. Are you all right? What _happened _to you up there?"

"And what's with the hamsters?" said Renée, holding up the hamster cage.

Lisa breathlessly explained what had happened to her upstairs.

"I killed a bunch of zombies, and then I fought one of those Licker things with the long tongues all on my own, and then I found Dr Redmond's office and killed her zombie assistant and I found her diary and forwarded all her e-mails onto my address, and she was dead and wearing a necklace just like Amber's, and then I found these hamsters and decided to rescue them, and my parents created the L-Virus, I found their diaries, and they were forced to experiment on Joseph Frost and make him into a monster, and then Lucifer found me and he almost got me but then I stabbed him with a letter-opener and I managed to escape and - and - "

"Whoa, whoa… Joseph Frost? Lucifer? What are you talking about, Lisa?" said Dr Harlech, stunned.

"Lucifer's that monster that's been chasing us, Dr H!" gasped Lisa. "He used to be this guy from STARS called Joseph Frost, and he was Amber's boyfriend, but he died in the mansion incident, and when Umbrella found his body they sent him here for the L-Project and they tested the L-Virus on him, and he turned into that monster and they called him Lucifer!"

"That thing has a _name_?" said Dr Harlech. "Lucifer?"

"Yeah, and Dr Hazlitt and Dr Lampeter made my parents do this project, because they said they'd kill me if Mom and Dad didn't do it… but if Amber finds out my parents turned her dead boyfriend into a giant zombie, she won't rescue them - please don't tell her my parents did it!" begged Lisa.

Dr Harlech's mouth fell open.

"Uh… okay…" she said slowly. "I won't. I understand what people went through on this project. A lot of people were forced to do stuff they didn't want to, on pain of pain, myself included."

"These hamsters are kind of cute," said Renée, tickling one of them through the bars of the cage. "They're not infected, are they?"

"No, they used to be infected with the L-Virus but then Dr Redmond rescued them from an experiment and tested her vaccine on them and - oh! Dr H, Renée, I found it! I found the vaccine that Dr Redmond was working on!"

Lisa wrenched the backpack off her back, opened it and pulled out the bundled T-shirt. She unwrapped it hastily and handed the little black box to Dr Harlech.

"What's this?" said Dr Harlech, frowning.

"The L-Virus vaccine!" cried Lisa. "Janice did it! She found a cure for the L-Virus!"

Dr Harlech opened up the box, and her mouth fell open a second time.

"Well, I'll be…" she breathed, holding up one of the small glass phials. "She really _did_ do it… quick, Lisa, come and help me!"

"We're not too late, are we?" said Lisa anxiously, as she and Dr Harlech knelt down beside Jack's unconscious form.

"I don't know," said Dr Harlech. "I don't know much more about this virus than you do. But he's still alive, if that's what you mean. And only just. He's hanging on by a fingertip. Another ten minutes and he'll be dead."

Jack already looked dead. His skin was pale and bloodless, his lips barely tinged with pink, and he didn't appear to be breathing at first. Only the very occasional laboured breath and the faintest beat of a pulse gave away the fact that he was still alive. As for his injured arm, Lisa couldn't even bear to look at it for fear of what she might see.

"Jack?" said Lisa, touching his clammy forehead. "Jack, I'm here. I found you a vaccine - it's going to be all right. You're going to make it after all. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

"He can't hear you," said Dr Harlech. "He hasn't regained consciousness since you left."

"Never mind that," said Lisa, pointing to the box in Dr Harlech's hands. "Come on, we have to help him right now."

"Thank God you're back, Lisa," said Renée. "We were about to give you up for dead. And if Amber had come back to find you gone she would have kicked my ass through the _wall_ for letting you go up there alone."

"Never mind that too," said Dr Harlech curtly, and handed the box to Renée. "Shut up and read out these instructions for us."

"Shut up _and_ read out these instructions? How can I - " began Renée.

"Just _do it_!" yelled Dr Harlech and Lisa together.

"Okay, okay," said Renée, turning the paper the right way up. "All right. Uh… "These L-Virus vaccines are only to be used in case of accidental infection. Each phial contains one dose of L-Virus vaccine - "

"One dose of L-Virus vaccine, please," said Dr Harlech, holding out her hand.

Renée paused briefly to pass one of the glass phials to Dr Harlech, then continued reading. " - and can either be taken orally or injected into the bloodstream."

"We don't have any hypodermic needles," Dr Harlech groaned. "They were in Amber's briefcase, and _Amber _has Amber's briefcase. Blast it. Now what are we going to do?"

"And can EITHER BE TAKEN ORALLY," repeated Renée loudly, "or injected into the bloodstream."

"Oh - right. Thanks, Renée. Didn't catch that last time," said Dr Harlech, breathing out. "That's perfect. We just need to feed him this, then. Lisa, prop him up a bit so he doesn't choke. I'm going to have to pour this down his throat."

"Okay."

Lisa put one arm underneath Jack's head and then gently propped him up, so that he was in the sitting - or rather slumping but being supported by someone else - position.

Dr Harlech prised Jack's mouth open and tilted his head back.

"All right," she said, unscrewing the cap of the little glass phial and putting it to Jack's lips. "Bottoms up, Jack…"

The liquid trickled out of the little phial and down Jack's throat. When Dr Harlech was satisfied that the vaccine had been swallowed without incident, she allowed Jack's mouth to close and his head to fall forward.

"Right," she said solemnly. "That's that done. Now we wait and see if it works."

"It should do," put in Renée. "It says here that the vaccine starts working right away and will still work even during the final stages of the infection."

"I'm sure it does," said Dr Harlech evenly. "I also recall reading the Umbrella company charter, which clearly states that employees are not to be subjected to any form of abuse or discrimination on the grounds of gender, religion or ethnicity, and neither are they to be subjected to intimidation, harassment or any other forms of behaviour which they perceive to be abusive, threatening or otherwise inappropriate. Unsurprisingly, I don't put much trust in the written word of Umbrella or its employees any more."

"The closest the UBCS came to a disclaimer was "Don't sue"," said Renée. "Suited me fine. It's not like I could afford to sue anybody anyway, even if I wanted to."

"I can, and I am _so_ going to sue Umbrella," said Dr Harlech grimly.

"You think they'd let you live long enough to see the court case if you tried to sue?" said Renée.

"That's a very good point, Renée," said Dr Harlech, after some thought. "You're quite right. I bet that's the reason why Umbrella's never been sued before. They'd probably have half the Death Squad waiting outside your attorney's office, and the minute you step outside, _bam!_ You're a chalk outline with an incident report named after you."

"Damn straight. You'd never even make it to the witness stand," said Renée, nodding sagely.

Lisa let the conversation pass over her head as she held Jack in her arms. Watching his ashen face for any sign of movement or change, she reflected on how much things had changed in the past twenty-four hours. This time yesterday, they'd been the best of friends; Jack loved her, but love had been unrequited. Then the zombies had come for her, and even though she'd called her parents' work number for help, it had been Jack that she'd been most worried about, and she'd been so glad to see him when he came to save her.

Things had changed a great deal between them. For one thing, their quest to escape from Raccoon City had brought them a lot closer together; their friendship was now all but unbreakable. She remembered the irritation she'd felt whenever the others had unwittingly interrupted romantic moments, and finally the sudden realisation that she loved Jack, just as she seemed about to lose him forever. And now…

Now, finally, there was hope for them. When her parents found out that Jack had almost died to save her from their monstrous creation, they would almost certainly accept him as her best friend, boyfriend, or even - dare she think it? - future husband material. They knew they loved each other, and if they could both make it out of here alive, then they could be together at last. Future happiness beckoned.

If only he would wake up…

"Jack, I made it," she told him. "I went upstairs all on my own to find a cure for the L-Virus, and I came back in one piece. I fought zombies, a Licker and our very own nemesis, Lucifer, and I nearly died a couple of times. I crawled through air ducts and searched corpses, and I even rooted around in the bottom of a dirty hamster cage, all for you. I did it because I love you, and I want you to live. Please don't let me have gone through all this for nothing - don't die after all I went through to save you! Jack, _mi querido, mi ángel,_ wake up! You have to wake up!"

A few muscles twitched in Jack's face. Slowly, his chest heaving with the effort, he took a great shuddering breath and held it; the air rushed out of his lungs again in a gasp, and then there was dead silence. Lisa held her own breath. So, too, did Dr Harlech and Renée, both waiting to see what happened next and hoping for a happy outcome.

Jack took another small, shallow breath. And another. And a third. Then two, three, four in quick succession as his breathing quickened.

"Is that meant to happen?" said Dr Harlech uncertainly.

"You tell me," said Renée, shrugging. "You're the doctor."

It certainly didn't sound right to Lisa. Jack's breathing sounded unnaturally fast and was definitely verging on hyperventilation. The pulse beneath her fingers was almost as fast, as if struggling to keep up with Jack's out-of-control lungs in the race to be the fastest.

Suddenly the hyperventilating stopped and Jack's whole body went rigid. His back arched, and his lips drew back from his clenched teeth in a silent cry of pain.

"Is this normal, do you think?" said Renée.

"Under normal circumstances, no. Considering he was infected with a deadly virus by a giant zombie, then yes, this probably is normal," said Dr Harlech. "It all depends on your definition of "normal", and at the moment, "normal" is all relative, really."

"I've got an Aunt Norma," said Renée thoughtfully, "But I don't think we have any relatives called Normal. Pity really. It's a nice name. Normal Lavelle. I quite like it. I think I'll call my kid that one day, if I ever find someone to settle down with."

"Renée, that's not _quite_ what I meant - "

Dr Harlech was interrupted mid-sentence as Jack, still unconscious, took a deep breath and screamed.


	40. A Devil Put Aside For Me

****

40: A Devil Put Aside For Me

Completely unaware of the events unfolding upstairs, Amber walked down the corridor and stopped outside the door at the end. She took hold of the door handle and pulled the door open.

She walked through it and into what was probably the biggest room she'd ever seen. It was massive, easily twice the size of the room that had been divided by the glass partition, and it must have been at least two storeys high, if not three. She was currently standing on a rusty iron catwalk, high above the bare stone floor, and at the other end was a rust-covered door with a sign that was unreadable, having corroded long ago.

This made sense. The catwalk had obviously been the long, thin rectangle in the diagram that Lucifer had drawn on the wall of its cell. And the circles…

She looked down. The circles turned out to be vast simmering metal vats, filled with unknowable substances that gave off an incredible stench of old chemicals. They looked, and probably were, highly toxic.

"Amber Bernstein. We meet again."

Amber jumped at the sound of the voice, and looked up sharply to see Christina standing in front of the door at the other end of the catwalk. She was smiling smugly, as if in the possession of superior knowledge.

"Oh, it's you," said Amber. She didn't feel particularly relieved, but even an unfriendly face was better than being alone down here. This whole environment was giving her the creeps.

Christina nodded.

"I see you have my torch," she said mildly, pointing to the object tucked into Amber's belt. "I'd like it back, please."

"Of course," said Amber. "Though I should warn you that the battery just ran out."

She crossed the catwalk and handed it to the mercenary. Christina's smug expression melted seamlessly into a look of distaste as she took the spent torch from Amber's hands.

"Thank you," she said stiffly.

"So how long have you been down here?" said Amber, quickly changing the subject. Being alone with a disgruntled Christina was a prospect that she wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Oh, I've been down here for quite some time now," said Christina, smiling faintly. "Just waiting. Waiting for you to show up."

It was an innocuous little sentence in itself, but something about the way she said it triggered something deep inside Amber's brain. In spite of this, Amber tried to steer the conversation towards the polite exchange of information. A narrow, rusting catwalk with a solid concrete floor twenty feet below it was no place to duke it out with someone who was trained to kill for money.

"So… uh… did you find out where that door leads?" she said, nodding towards the door behind Christina.

"As a matter of fact, I did," said Christina. "It leads through an old weapons storage room and into a small stairwell, and then out onto the platform for the emergency escape train."

Amber smiled. This was the best news she'd heard all day.

"Great work, Christina," she said. "Come on, let's go and fetch the others so we can get out of this dump."

She turned around and headed back for the door, feeling slightly self-conscious as she did so. She had taken no more than four steps when she heard the click of metal on metal behind her. Amber froze, but despite her panic, she made an effort to keep her breathing slow and steady. Keeping calm was absolutely essential if she was going to survive this one.

Without turning around even a fraction of an inch, she could see what was behind her; Christina, still smiling her faint and slightly unnerving smile, was pointing a gun right at the back of her head. When Amber did eventually turn round, at something approximating the speed of continental drift, she saw exactly what she'd predicted - except now the gun was aimed at her forehead.

_Keep calm. Maintain eye contact. Don't blink. Just reach down, slowly…_

"Don't even think about it," said Christina sharply.

Amber's hand stopped halfway to her waist, caught in the act of reaching for her gun. She gave up, and let her arms hang at her sides.

"I knew it," she said hopelessly. "I knew I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"Yes, you should have," said Christina, in a tone of voice which sounded almost sympathetic. "Why didn't you?"

"Lisa and Jack," said Amber. "They talked me out of it, back in the park when we were following you."

"More fool you for listening to them," said Christina grimly, all traces of sympathy now gone. "Children are in no position to advise adults, and you should know that. Of course, that's rather irrelevant now, since you're going to die anyway."

Amber gulped.

"L-look, Christina," she said, stammering a little in her nervousness, "I know we hate the sight of each other, but there's no need for this. I'm sure if we talk about this, we can - "

Christina smirked.

"You really think this is personal?" she said. "You should know better than that. I'm a mercenary, Amber - that should give you some clues as to why I'm doing this."

Amber's heart sank as her negotiation attempts fell flat. Of _course _that was why Christina was doing this. She'd known that right away, deep down, but a very tiny part of her had hoped that maybe this was just a grudge, something that could be talked about and dealt with in the name of peace and harmony. Stupid, really. There was no room in Christina's head for peace and harmony, or anything else that dealt with mercy, forgiveness or human kindness.

"I know why you're here, Christina," said Amber wearily. "There's no need to explain. The "rescue mission" was a cover story. They sent you and Renée here to take me out because I tried to help the STARS survivors bring down the company and expose the truth. I'm going to die down here because I know too much. I knew that all along. I just hoped that there might be a chance that I was wrong."

Christina gave the tiniest of nods. In a competition for "smallest, most perfunctory movements in the history of human body language", it would have been a definite contender for the top ten.

"Correct," she said. "Well, mostly. The rescue operation conducted by our unit was real. Lavelle was telling the truth when she said that we'd been sent here to save civilians - that _was _what she and the other members of the unit were told to do. I, however,was sent here specifically to track you down and kill you. The other STARS survivors are being dealt with even as I speak."

"But why didn't you kill me before?" said Amber. "You had plenty of opportunities to kill me when the kids weren't around to see. You could have shot me when you found me in the sewers, or in the living room in the clock tower."

"No," said Christina. "This mission was originally top secret. Lavelle wasn't supposed to know about it - for all she knew, I was helping her to rescue you and the others. Letting you live this long was part of the subterfuge. However, while I was tracking your movements - oh yes, that reminds me, there's a tracking device underneath the collar of your shirt. I'd like that back before I kill you, please. Those are quite expensive."

Amber, stunned by this new revelation, felt the back of her collar and found the little tracking device that Christina had carefully placed there. She pulled it off and stared at it.

"How did you put that there?" she said, frowning.

"That's been on your collar ever since our journey through the sewers," said Christina casually. "Give it to me, please."

She held out her hand; Amber, still stunned, handed it back without a word.

"Now where was I?" mused Christina aloud. "Oh yes. While I was tracking your movements from afar, you came across another of my targets, and I realised that separating both targets from the rest of the group so that I could shoot you without either Lavelle or the children noticing would be virtually impossible. So I enlisted Lavelle's help after my last meeting with her - I believe that was while you and the other target were battling a Tyrant. Congratulations, by the way. You performed remarkably well under the circumstances. I was quite surprised that it didn't save me the trouble of killing you both."

"The other target… you must mean Clarissa," said Amber, shocked.

Christina nodded.

"Dr Harlech also knows far more about this company than she should, and her attempted resignation from the Lucifer Project made her a liability. She had to die. It was most convenient that you came down here looking for a way out. While I take care of you, Lavelle deals with the good doctor upstairs. A very neat arrangement."

"What about Jack and Lisa?" said Amber, already dreading the response. "They're just kids - even if they did try to expose Umbrella, nobody would believe them. They're not a threat to the company. You won't hurt them, will you?"

"Well, I left that entirely at Private Lavelle's discretion," said Christina, shrugging. "However, she's not being paid for them, and being the soft and weak-willed thing that she is, I have no doubt that she'll let them live. Not that it matters much. The boy's dying from the L-Virus infection, and the girl won't last long with the subject after her."

"The subject…?" said Amber.

"Lucifer," said Christina matter-of-factly. "What with one thing and another, the team responsible for Lucifer's training never taught it to seek out a target, and so it seems to have decided to kill everything and everyone even remotely associated with the project that spawned it. Lisa's parents, as you may already know, created the L-Virus and were ordered to test it on the corpse of a STARS member found at the site of the Spencer mansion. I believe he was rather close to you at one point."

Amber gasped.

"You don't mean - oh, no. Not Joseph…!"

"Joseph Frost? Yes. His name now is Lucifer. Oh, Amber, don't cry," said Christina, noticing the tears glistening in Amber's eyes. "You shouldn't cry. After all, he is already dead."

"I'LL KILL YOU!" shrieked Amber, throwing down her briefcase. She drew her gun and launched herself at Christina, pulling the trigger of her handgun.

Christina yawned, and stepped aside almost lazily to dodge the bullets. Then, with cobra-like speed, her arm shot out and gripped Amber around the neck, forcing the police officer into a headlock.

"Oh, you'll _try_, I have no doubt," she told Amber. "But you won't kill me. And if you think you can, then you're quite mistaken. I'm the one who's going to kill _you_."

Amber's necklace, which up until now had been carefully tucked inside her shirt, chose that exact moment to come untucked and fall out. Christina saw the pendant dangling a few inches above the floor, smiled nastily, and ripped the necklace from Amber's neck.

"Give that back!" yelled Amber, trying to make a grab for it.

Christina shook her head and tightened her fingers around it.

"Do you even know what this is?" she said, her lip curling. "Or how important it is? It's the laboratory key, of course, but there's much more to it than that. It's the property of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Incorporated, on loan to Dr Elizabeth Hartley for the duration of the Lucifer Project, and now Umbrella wants it back. They want it back so much, they're willing to put two million dollars directly into my bank account if I retrieve it for them."

"Why is it so important?" yelled Amber. "It's just a stupid neckla-ow, _ow, ow_!"

Christina hauled Amber to her feet by her hair.

"But it's not just a necklace," she said softly, tucking the necklace into a pocket and putting her gun to Amber's head. "That pendant gets its smoky colour from the liquid inside it, and that liquid just happens to be the last surviving sample of the finished L-Virus. The company put a lot of money into this project, and they're not about to see it go to waste. They want this virus, and I'm going to be the one who hands it to them and walks away with pockets full of cash and two targets crossed off my hit list. And nobody - you, or anyone else - is going to stop me."

"Haven't you ever watched the movies, Christina?" said Amber, through clenched teeth. "Don't you know what happens when the bad guy says "You can't kill me! Nothing can stop me now! Mwahahahaha!" to the good guy? I'll tell you what happens! The good guy kicks the bad guy's _ass _and the bad guy falls backwards into the flaming pit of death with a "Nooooooooo!", that's what!"

"Well this isn't a movie, Amber," said Christina scornfully. "This is real. And in real life, there are no happy endings, no lucky escapes, no miraculous victories. Good guys die and bad guys get away with it. And I am going to tell you how this story ends."

She leaned closer, and murmured into Amber's ear:

"You die here. Dr Harlech dies upstairs. Jack turns into a monster. Lisa gets killed by her parents' own creation. Renée escapes alive and well, providing she never breathes a word about her part in my mission. I get away with the L-Virus and get rewarded with millions of dollars for my trouble. That's how it's going to be. You're going to die, Amber Bernstein. And you know, there really _isn't_ anything you can do about it."

"Maybe not," said Amber. "But tell me one thing before I die. As a cop, it's something that I've always been curious about."

"What?"

"What does it feel like to be a murderer?"

Amber knew she'd touched a nerve when she heard the long silence, and the faint hiss of indrawn breath.

_"_I am _not _a murderer," came the reply, distant and cold.

"You've grabbed a defenceless woman from behind and you're about to put a bullet through her head," Amber pointed out. "That sure sounds like murder to me. A really _cowardly_ kind of murder."

"I'm not a murderer or a coward. I'm a mercenary, and I only kill for money."

"Plenty of murderers kill for money," said Amber.

"And I'm not one of them," said Christina. "I'm a soldier. I'm paid to follow orders."

"And when you're ordered to murder other people?" said Amber.

"Assassinate," corrected Christina. "Not murder. Murder implies personal motives and an autonomous decision to kill. I don't make the decisions - I just kill whoever I'm told to kill."

"Why? Too stupid to make your own decisions?" Amber retorted.

"Exactly what are you trying to prove, Bernstein?" Christina demanded to know. "If this is some sort of pathetic attempt to talk me out of killing you by persuading me that I'm on the wrong side, then it won't work. I'm on the side that pays me money to fight, and that's always the right side when you're a mercenary."

"I don't care what you say, Christina," snapped Amber. "You're a liar and a coward, and a murderer too. You're not even a real soldier. A _real _soldier doesn't need to kill defenceless people by grabbing them in a headlock from behind and shooting them in the head!"

"Very well then," said Christina calmly. "If you persist in being deliberately obtuse in an attempt to make me angry, then I'm happy to rise to the challenge. I'm no gun-reliant coward and I'll prove it - I'll fight you right here, though I should warn you that you don't have a hope of winning. I'm more than capable of killing you with my bare hands. To be honest, you would have been better off if I had just pulled the trigger now. It would have been quicker and less painful. But if you want to play silly games…"

"Oooh," taunted Amber, raising her fists. "Is that meant to scare me? It's not working. You wanna fight me bare-handed, huh? Huh? Well, bring it on, bit-"

The punch came out of nowhere and sent Amber flying. Amber staggered backwards, but regained her balance and flung herself at Christina, fists flailing wildly as she tried to land punches on the mercenary. Christina dodged these effortlessly, then sent back a right hook so fast and vicious that it knocked Amber flat on her back.

Slightly dazed, Amber picked herself up - just in time to be kicked back down again. She suddenly found a knee planted firmly in her stomach, another one pinning her down by the right shoulder and punches raining down on her as Christina took full tactical advantage of her prone position.

Dizzy, bruised and bleeding - well, possibly, she was a little unsure on the last one - Amber was beginning to regret her rash choice of words. She may have avoided a bullet through the head, but instead she was getting beaten to death; it wasn't much of an improvement. Still, at least this way she had some chance of retaliation, and a tiny sliver of hope. But first she had to get Christina off her…

Amber concentrated hard, then moved her head sharply to one side just as Christina's fist came down again. There was a muffled screech of pain as the mercenary's knuckles hit the spot on the iron catwalk floor where Amber's face had been five seconds previously. Wasting no time, Amber brought up her free arm and raked her fingernails right down Christina's face.

Snarling with rage, Christina got up and grabbed Amber by the hair, then slammed her head repeatedly into the rail of the catwalk. Amber, desperate for the pain to stop, kicked out at Christina and planted her foot firmly in Christina's stomach. Christina grunted and doubled up slightly, but didn't let go of Amber's hair. Amber kicked her again, and this time she let go.

Deciding that this was the perfect opportunity to do what she'd restrained herself from doing for several hours, Amber slapped Christina in the face. Christina took a swipe at her in retaliation, but missed as Amber ducked out of the way. Amber pushed Christina, briefly catching her off guard, then punched her in the forehead; Christina stumbled backwards, reeling from the blow.

_Wow,_ thought Amber, staring at her knuckles. _I actually punched Christina… that felt pretty good. Hey, maybe there's a chance I can actually win this after a-_

_Smack!_

Amber's sense of victory turned out to be short-lived as Christina's fist slammed straight into Amber's face. Amber howled and clutched her nose. Blood streamed down her face and dripped onto her clothes, boots and the floor of the catwalk, like crimson rain.

_Maybe not…_

There was a muffled crash in the distance, but before Amber could even wonder what the sound was, Christina launched straight into another attack, tackling Amber to the ground and using pretty much every tactic at her disposal to hurt Amber as much as possible. Punches, slaps, kicks, knees in the stomach and elbows in the face were dealt out one after the other in a litany of unrelenting violence. Amber fought back as hard as she could, but it was no use; the mercenary was much better than her at close-quarters combat, and she was too weak and injured to fight back.

Eventually Amber gave up and let the blows rain down on her. Lying face-up on the catwalk, still flinching at every kick and punch even though she'd already been so badly beaten that it didn't hurt much any more, she silently willed her life to end.

_Enough already,_ she thought. _Come on, how much more do I have to take? Just finish me off quickly and get this over with…_

But as she lay there, hoping that the next blow would be the one that finally killed her, she felt the ground shake, and she slowly became aware of an odd sound in the background. 

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Amber's blood froze in a moment of horrible recognition. Even the blood flowing freely from her nose seemed to stop in its tracks. She knew exactly what those thuds meant.

"Christina!" she screamed. "Stop it!"

"I take it that you've had enough, then,"said Christina, pausing in her attack. "I suppose you want me to shoot you and get it over with?"

"Yes - wait, no! No! Look, just stop hitting me and listen!" yelled Amber. "That thing, Lucifer, it's here! Can't you hear it? I know you're meant to be beating me senseless and everything, but you have to listen to me! We have to get out of here right now, or we're _both _dead!"

"Don't be absurd," said Christina coldly. "Lucifer's not after us. It's only tracking down the people connected with the Lucifer Project - Dr Harlech because she worked on the project, and Lisa because her parents made the L-Virus and it probably recognises their genetic material in her. It only infected Jack because the stupid boy tried to stop it from killing Lisa. It has absolutely no reason to kill us - you and I have nothing to do with the project."

"You're wrong," said Amber, shaking her head. "You're about as wrong as you can get."

"And why am I wrong, exactly?" Christina said, with icy disdain.

Amber took a deep breath.

"Because I tried to protect Clarissa and the kids from it upstairs. I shot at it quite a few times, and I don't think it was terribly happy about that. And as for you - oh, yes, you're connected with the project now. There's no doubt about that."

"Why?"

"_Because you're the one holding the L-Virus, you stupid bitch_!"

For the first time since she'd met her - and quite probably the first time, period - Christina looked slightly perturbed. Amber wasn't surprised by her reaction; anyone in their right mind would be bothered by the prospect of Lucifer coming after them, although it was oddly disconcerting to see Christina look worried. Of course, everyone was afraid of something, but Christina - scared? Was that even possible?

Christina shook her head slowly.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I may not be able to fight it or outrun it, but I can still outsmart it. There's no way a man can think better and faster than a woman, dead or alive. And even if it does defeat me, my life is secondary to the mission. Either way, it won't affect you. You'll still be dead."

She smiled very slightly.

"Which reminds me…"

Amber swallowed as Christina drew her gun again. As the barrel of the gun swung round towards her, she shut her eyes as tightly as she could. Chilly metal pressed against her bruised forehead.

"Goodbye, Amber Bernstein."

_So this really is it. Guess the Tyrant was just a trial run. Well, at least I'll get to be with Joseph again. I just wish I could have saved the kids, and Clarissa. I wish I'd done more and tried harder to stop Umbrella. But it's too late now. One last breath and it'll all be over._

_Breathe in…_

_… breathe out._

_Click._

Boom.

Plaster dust rained down on the catwalk as the ceiling collapsed. There was a loud roar, and an even louder thud which shook the catwalk; Christina stood up, cursing, and looked around to see what had caused the disturbance.

She looked up, and looked up a little further, and saw the face of evil staring pitilessly back at her. One eye was dead, the other gouged out; black blood was trickling from the empty eye socket.

"Lucifer…" she breathed.

"Kill…"

"No," said Christina, as loudly as she could. "Not me. You're not allowed to kill me. I'm not one of your targets."

"Kill…"

"We both work for Umbrella, Lucifer. We both kill for the company. I'm on _your_ side."

"Kill…"

"No!" yelled Christina, finally losing her cool. "I'm not a target! I have nothing to do with the Lucifer Project!"

Lucifer stepped forward. Christina backed away, raising both hands.

"Kill…" the monster hissed.

"Christina, run!" Amber tried to shout, but half the sentence came out as a hoarse whisper and the other half as a coughing fit.

"No…" said Christina, now with the slightest of tremors in her voice.

"Kill…"

"No!"

"Kill…!"

Lucifer picked up Christina by one leg and lifted her right off the floor, holding her upside-down. The mercenary kicked and struggled, but it was no good; there was no way of escaping that iron grasp.

"No!" Christina yelled. "No - _please_!"

"KILL!"

With that, it hurled Christina right off the catwalk.

"Christina!" cried Amber, crawling over to the edge of the catwalk. She saw Christina screaming as she fell, saw the mercenary's long blonde hair streaming in the wind, saw the look of desperate terror on the young woman's face, saw her falling down and down until…

_Crack._

Amber winced and looked away, then chanced a look back. After falling twenty feet and hitting solid concrete with considerable force, the once-proud mercenary was now a pathetic, broken figure lying in a small and crumpled heap on the floor. A pool of blood was growing steadily beneath her head, staining her uniform and dyeing her white-blonde hair red.

Amber couldn't believe her eyes. She'd just seen her emotionless and indestructible arch-enemy beg for her life, only to be thrown to her death. All that remained now of Corporal Christina Ardizzone was flesh and blood and shattered bones.

Christina was gone. In another time and another place, Amber would have been positively delighted to see the wretched woman meet a horrible end, but all she could feel now was shock and a strange dismay at seeing Christina's life ended so abruptly and violently. That last look of desperation and fear in her eyes as she fell, knowing that she was falling to her death and that she had failed in doing the one thing that had mattered to her… that was going to be stuck in Amber's head for the rest of her life.

"Christina…"

"Kill!"

Amber rolled out of the way just in time as Lucifer's fist swung towards her. The punch missed her head completely and crashed into the rail of the catwalk instead. With a snap and a creak that brought real pain to Amber's ears, the rusting metal gave way and a whole section of railing dropped away into the room below.

Battered and bloody-nosed, her head swimming with pain and fatigue, Amber had had enough. She'd been chased through sewers and graveyards and buildings by zombies and dogs and crows and giant frogs, she'd fought off a Tyrant, she hadn't had any sleep in days, she'd been beaten almost senseless by her worst enemy, almost killed several times, and worst of all, she'd been in the same room as mutant zombie spiders for more than two seconds. She was thoroughly fed-up of bioweapons, and this was the last straw.

"All right, you sadistic mutant scumbag," she snapped, stepping in front of the gap in the railings and drawing her gun. "Come on! I'm an official Umbrella target! So kill me!"

"Kill…!"

Lucifer lunged towards her. At the same time, Amber stepped neatly aside, and the monster lost its balance. It fell forward, and then found itself wedged in the gap in the railings. The bellow of frustration and anger was enough to bring a smile to Amber's face.

"Stuck?" she said sweetly. "Oh, dear. Let me help you…"

She stepped back, then ran forwards and kicked the creature's back as hard as she could.

Lucifer came unstuck quite dramatically, taking two more sections of rust-weakened railing with it as it toppled forwards.

"GRRAAAAARRRRGH!"

It plummeted from the catwalk and landed in one of the vats below with a colossal splash, sending a torrent of sludge-coloured liquid cascading over the sides of the vat and onto the floor.

There was no reverse-motion splash, no terrible figure rising from the revolting chemicals in a manner not unlike a certain creature from a dark-coloured lagoon. Amber watched with satisfaction as Lucifer sank slowly to the bottom of the vat. It didn't re-emerge.

Christina had been right about one thing at least, Amber thought, as she watched the steam rising from the spilled liquid on the floor. Joseph was already dead. Whatever now resided in the twisted, empty shell that had once been his body, it definitely wasn't the man she loved. It was small comfort, when Umbrella had killed her boyfriend with their zombie dogs and then used his mutilated body for their own evil purposes, but it was comfort nonetheless.

Still, she was furious. How dare they desecrate Joseph's body? How dare they do this to him instead of letting him rest in peace? Hadn't he suffered enough?

"You'll pay for this, Umbrella," she said aloud. "You won't get away with what you've done. Not while I'm still alive to stop you!"

When the echoes of her words died away, Amber suddenly felt much better. With Christina dead, and Lucifer stuck at the bottom of a vat, nobody was trying to kill her any more. She had narrowly escaped the clutches of two of Umbrella's deadliest killing machines, and escape was now a real option instead of a distant dream. Okay, so she'd been badly beaten up and the smallest movement was torture, and she'd lost the L-Virus, but at least she was still alive to stop Umbrella.

Something caught Amber's eye as she turned back and headed for the door; she hesitated, unsure if she should check it out, then decided to turn back around again and see what it was.

Lying on the floor of the catwalk, miraculously unharmed and glittering in the light, was the pendant containing the L-Virus. Amber guessed that it must have fallen out of Christina's pocket unnoticed when she was grabbed by Lucifer. How it hadn't smashed, she didn't know, but she was truly grateful that the pendant hadn't broken; God only knew what might have happened if its contents had leaked out.

"Whew… that was a close one," she said, deeply relieved.

She picked up the necklace and examined it carefully. The pendant was fine but the chain had snapped, having been ripped from her neck with some force; Amber resolved to fix it later, and slipped the necklace into her breast pocket.

That reminded her - where was her briefcase?

Briefly panicking, Amber whirled round to face the door she'd come through, then breathed out. It was lying on the catwalk near the door, right where she'd left it. She retrieved it quickly, and mentally ran through her item checklist.

_Briefcase - check. L-Virus - check. Lighter - check. Torch - gone. Gun - check. Anything else?_

Oh yes. Friends. Well, that was easy enough. All she had to do was go back upstairs and -

A memory of her exchange with Christina suddenly surfaced in the most unpleasant way possible.

_While I take care of you, Lavelle deals with the good doctor upstairs…_

"Clarissa!"

xxxxxxxxxx

Unearthly shrieks filtered down from the room and echoed in the dark forgotten passages below.

"Hold him down! Hold him down!"

"I'm _trying_!"

Jack thrashed around wildly, screaming in pain as the L-Virus antidote rushed through his system. Lisa and Dr Harlech tried in vain to restrain him; even unconscious, he seemed to be stronger than they were.

Renée, meanwhile, was sitting cross-legged on the floor some distance away, reading through Dr Redmond's diary. The hamster cage was by her side, and every now and then she reached through the bars and tickled one of the hamsters absent-mindedly.

"The vaccine does appear to be slightly painful when first administered, but this soon passes," she quoted, running her finger along the page.

"_Slightly _painful?" said Dr Harlech incredulously, struggling to keep the unconscious boy still as he writhed in agony. "You call this _slightly_ painful?"

"Jack!" cried Lisa. "It's all right, Jack! You're going to be all right - it'll be over soon! Just hang in there, okay?"

Jack suddenly went limp again, collapsing in their arms. Lisa, Renée and Dr Harlech watched in horror as his breathing gradually slowed to a halt. Dr Harlech pressed her fingers to his temples and felt the pulse fading beneath her fingers.

"Oh, no," she groaned. "Come on, Jack! Don't do this! She gave you the antidote, goddamn it!"

But there was nothing. No pulse, no breathing. Jack's head lolled to one side, and then it was over.

"He's - he's not breathing," said Lisa faintly. "The antidote was never tested on humans, it must have poisoned him… oh, God, I've killed him! He's dead and it's all my fault!"

"Oh, sweetheart, it's not your fault," said Dr Harlech. "You did your best to save him. You mustn't blame yourself."

"You were really brave, Lisa," added Renée, going across the room on all fours and sitting down next to the others. "You went up there all on your own to find that vaccine, and there aren't a lot of kids who would do that for a friend. We're very proud of you."

"But he's dead…" whimpered Lisa.

"Lisa, we're so sorry," said Renée, putting her arm around Lisa. "We know how much he meant to you."

Lisa burst into tears.

"It was my fault that he got hurt," she wept. "He saved me from Lucifer in the first place. I gave him that vaccine to save his life, but he's dead anyway - I either poisoned him or got here too late, but whatever it was, I killed him!"

"Lisa - " said Dr Harlech, looking concerned.

"If it wasn't for me, he'd still be alive!" wailed Lisa.

"Lisa - " said Renée, a little more urgently.

"_I wish I was_ _dead_!" Lisa bawled.

"Lisa!" yelled Dr Harlech and Renée together.

"What?" said Lisa, finally looking up. She followed the two women's gazes, and gave a start.

Jack's body was starting to twitch. Lightly at first, then with increasing violence, he twitched and jerked as if electricity was being passed through his lifeless body.

"What's going on?" said Lisa anxiously. "What's happening to him?"

"The L-Virus mutation must be starting," said Dr Harlech. "Lisa, get away from him right now!"

The three of them backed away from Jack nervously, exchanging worried glances.

"We should get out of here…"

"This is definitely not good."

"Do you think we should - ?"

Jack suddenly sat bolt upright. With a gasp, his eyes shot open. Lisa, Renée and Dr Harlech all screamed together in perfect harmony, and ran for the far corner of the room, each one trying to hide behind the other two in their panic.

"Aaaargh! He's a zombie!"

"This is it! We're doomed!"

"I want my mommy!"

"Pull yourself together, woman, you're twenty-seven years old!"

"_I still want my mommy_!"

Cowering, they watched from the relative safety of the corner as the zombie Jack went through his warm-up routine - groaning, clutching his head, then looking up and asking:

"What the hell just happen to me?"

Lisa, Renée and Dr Harlech looked at each other and said:

"Huh?"

"What the hell just happen?" repeated Jack, studying the palms of his hands and then pressing them to his cheeks. " 'm I dead or what?"

The other three stared blankly at him for a moment, then huddled together in a group discussion.

"… doesn't _look _like a zombie…"

"… think I saw him breathing…"

"… never seen a talking zombie before…"

"… don't even think he's…"

Once finished, they turned back to him. Dr Harlech cleared her throat nervously and ventured:

"Um… I realise that this might seem like a rather stupid question, but under the, um, circumstances it's probably wise to… uh… are you dead?"

Jack gave this question due consideration.

"I dunt _think _so," he said carefully, feeling for his own pulse and then breathing experimentally onto his hand. "Could be wrong, of course. I ain't much of an expert in technical medical stuff. But I dunt _feel_ dead, if that help you some."

"Do you mind if I…?" said Dr Harlech tentatively.

Jack shrugged.

"Sure. Go ahead."

Dr Harlech crawled warily across the room on her hands and knees, and repeated Jack's crude methods of self-diagnosis, this time with a little more medical panache.

"Breathing… fine. Pulse is a little fast, but nothing unusual. Eyes - responding normally to light. Now excuse me for a second - "

"Ow!"

"Yes, definite response to pain. Sorry about that. So, Jack, how are you feeling in yourself?"

"Uh… not dead?" said Jack, looking slightly puzzled.

"Eh, good enough for me. I think you survived the procedure," said Dr Harlech.

"I - I did?" said Jack.

"Mmm-hmm. And you have Lisa to thank for that," said Dr Harlech. "She went upstairs and found an antidote for the L-Virus. If it wasn't for her, I would have rather more justification for standing in the corner and screaming "AAAHH! ZOMBIE!"."

Jack turned his head towards Lisa, who was staring at him in wonder.

"You're alive," she said.

Jack nodded, and Lisa broke into a wide smile. She rushed over to Jack, arms outstretched towards him, and hugged him tightly. In turn, Jack folded his arms around her, and the two friends embraced.

"I can't believe it," said Lisa, almost ready to sob with relief. "Jack, you're okay!"

"Yeah, I be okay," said Jack, "But I feel kinda - diff'rent. Like somethin' make a few changes to me on the inside. Dunt feel like plain old Jack Carpenter no more. Ah, hell, it dunt matter. At least I ain't dead or a monster, right?"

Lisa nodded.

"It's good to have you back on your feet, Jack," said Renée, and she went to pat him on the back. "Survival just wouldn't be the same without you."

"Same here," said Dr Harlech, hugging him and Lisa. "We're glad you're all right."

"So… what now?" said Lisa. "Should we stay here and wait for Amber?"

"Amber? Ain't she back yet?" said Jack, looking around.

"No, and I'm getting worried. She's been gone for a long time now," said Dr Harlech. "I think maybe we should go and find her, and make sure she's all right."

"Yeah, we should go and look for her," said Renée. "I'm fed up of sitting around and twiddling my thumbs while we wait for her to come back. Who knows how long she'll keep us waiting? And if something's happened to her and she's hurt, she won't be coming back for us - which means she needs us to go and rescue her. In any event, it means we need to get a move on. We've waited long enough."

They all agreed that this was the best course of action, as by now Amber was probably either lost, dead, rendered helpless by injury, in another form of unspecified mortal peril, or somewhere in Australia. It therefore came as quite a surprise when Amber - bloody, bruised and bedraggled - burst in through the front door, brandishing her gun and screaming at Renée to get away from the others.

"Amber?" gasped Dr Harlech. "What's going on?"

"Renée's trying to kill you - "

"Was," said Dr Harlech.

Amber blinked.

"What?"

"She _was _trying to kill me," Dr Harlech corrected her. "But we've sorted all that out now, so don't worry about it."

"You… sorted it all out?" said Amber, taken aback. "Oh. Uh, that's good. Very good. Well done. Everyone's friends now. Wonderful. That's very wonderful."

"Yeah, it's a wonderful world," said Renée. "Can we go now?"

"Yes, please, let's go," said Dr Harlech. "I've had enough of this hellhole. I assume you found a way out, then, Amber?"

"I most certainly did," said Amber, relieved that the conversation was taking a more mundane turn. "There's an emergency escape route, complete with train, and it's quite a nice walk if you ignore all the forgotten storerooms and dark corridors and creepy secret testing laboratories and things. And in the meantime, perhaps Renée can explain why she was trying to kill you, but has now apparently changed her mind," she added hopefully.

"Sure," said Renée. "It makes for quite an interesting sob-story, if I do say so myself."

"Great," said Amber, and she put away her gun. "That's great. I'll look forward to hearing all about it. Well, now that we're all here, we - "

She stopped and stared at Jack.

"Hey, I thought you were meant to be dead?" she said, frowning.

"Nope," said Jack simply.

"Christina said you were dying from the L-Virus infection and that you were going to turn into a monster," said Amber, suddenly feeling very foolish as the words escaped her mouth.

Jack shook his head.

"Nope. I feel good."

"Oh," said Amber, slightly dazed by these unexpected new developments. "Uh… glad to hear it. Well, then, let's go."

Gathering themselves and their possessions together, they went down the steps - Amber first, followed by Renée, Lisa and Jack. Dr Harlech, the last one to leave, closed the door neatly behind her.

As the darkness of the corridor closed in around them, two flames suddenly flickered into life, chasing away the shadows again. In the dim but adequate light, Amber saw that Lisa had also decided to use her lighter as illumination.

"Good idea," said Amber, with a nod of approval. "That's what I did. Oh, and by the way, there's something I want to ask the rest of you. How come Jack was dying by inches when I left, but he's now the picture of health?"

"I saved him," said Lisa proudly. "I went upstairs and found a cure for the L-Virus, and I brought it back down to the shelter. Dr H and I managed to give him the antidote just in time, and now he's okay."

"That was a very brave thing to do, Lisa, but it was also very reckless and stupid," said Amber severely. "You could have died up there - and anyway, what were you two thinking, letting her run around up there on her own? I thought you two were meant to be looking after her!"

Renée and Dr Harlech both blushed and looked away, too embarrassed to meet Amber's gaze.

"It dunt matter," said Jack. "She save my life, an' nobody get hurt doin' it. Dunt worry 'bout it."

"I guess you're right. I'm just grateful that nobody got hurt," said Amber.

"So, you wanted to know about Renée and my most recent brush with death?" said Dr Harlech, to break the silence that followed.

"I'm all ears," said Amber.

"Renée pretended that her stomach wound was hurting her, and when I came over to see what was wrong, she put a gun to my head and told me that she'd been sent to kill me, because I knew too much about the project. Obviously I didn't want to die, so I kept her talking and tried to dissuade her from killing me, and eventually I found out why she was doing it - well, you tell her, Renée."

"It's because of my sister, you see," Renée explained. "She's seriously ill and my family can't afford to pay for her medical treatment, so Umbrella agreed to foot the bill, on the condition that I was sent to work for them in the UBCS. My original orders were to help rescue survivors, just like I told you, but then Christina told me about her assassination mission, and blackmailed me into cooperating with her. She told me that if I didn't, I'd get shopped for desertion and executed, and my sister's treatment would be permanently suspended."

Lisa and Jack gasped at this revelation. Amber was similarly shocked.

"That's awful," she said.

"Yeah," said Renée. "But new orders or not, I couldn't kill Dr H - she's my friend. Thing is, I don't know what I'm going to do now. Christina's going to turn me in once she finds out that I disobeyed orders, and then my sister and I are dead for sure."

"I don't think she's going to turn anyone in," said Amber. "Not now."

"What do you mean?" said Renée.

"Christina's dead," said Amber darkly. "And before you ask, no, I didn't kill her. Lucifer got her - but I'll tell you about it some other time. Let's just concentrate on getting out of here first."

Lisa felt her face burning in the darkness, and felt quite glad that nobody would notice the redness of embarrassment colouring her cheeks.

"Amber? A-about Lucifer?" she said timidly.

"What is it, Lisa?" said Amber.

Lisa opened her mouth, and found herself suddenly confessing to everything that she knew about what had happened to Amber's boyfriend. Amber's expression didn't change. Eventually, she held up a hand, silencing Lisa mid-sentence.

"Lisa, I know," she said. "Christina told me everything. And I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't angry or upset, but I'm not blaming your parents for this. They were good people, Lisa, and I know that because their daughter's a good person too. And over the years, Umbrella's made a lot of good people do terrible things against their will. It's not your parents' fault if they were coerced or threatened or blackmailed into doing this, and it's certainly not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But your boyfriend - "

"Joseph was no monster, and that monster's not Joseph," said Amber sharply. "Joseph died a long time ago. Whatever that thing is now, it's not him. The man I loved is gone forever, and nothing can ever bring him back, or change who he was inside."

"You're right," said Lisa. "Still, I'm sorry that they did this to Joseph."

"I know. The thought's appreciated."

On and on they walked, mulling over the latest developments in their mission to escape the city of the dead. Christina was dead, Jack was alive, and their most feared enemy had once been Amber's much-loved boyfriend. And then of course there was Renée, who had shaken off the nastier part of her job description, but at great personal cost.

"Renée?" said Amber. "About your problem? I don't think you need to worry too much about that. Christina can't report you now that she's gone, and there's nobody else around to do it for her. I think perhaps the best thing for you to do would be to go M.I.A., at least for a few years. They won't go looking for you if you're missing in action, presumed dead."

"Yeah, going A.W.O.L. might sound like a good idea, but what about Thérèse? I can't just leave her, and without Umbrella paying for her medical treatment - "

"Don't worry about your sister, Renée," said Dr Harlech. "We'll make sure she's safe. Where do your family live?"

"I'm from New Orleans."

"Well then, you're in luck, because I have some friends there who work at a hospital," said Dr Harlech. "I'm sure they can help your sister. As for the cost… well, don't worry about that. I can take care of that for you."

"But it's thousands of dollars - " gasped Renée.

"I'll take care of it," repeated Dr Harlech patiently. "Now stop worrying. Your sister will be fine; Amber and I will make sure of that. We won't let either of you come to harm. Just stick with us, and maybe consider taking on a new identity for a while, at least until Umbrella are convinced that you must be dead. Then you can go home and be with your family again. Right, Amber?"

"Right," the policewoman agreed.

"Thank you," said Renée, her voice suddenly quiet and muffled. "You don't know how much this means to me… I know I don't deserve your help, after what I tried to do, but I'm very grateful to you both. Thank you so much."

"It's all right," said Dr Harlech. "You're our friend, Renée. That's what friends do."

Renée looked up, and smiled; not her trademark cheerful grin this time, but a warm smile of gratitude and real happiness.

"I'm glad to hear that."

Dark and gloomy though it was down here, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to lighten considerably with this conversation. The group were almost starting to feel relaxed as they neared the end of the passage and saw the outlines of the double doors etched in the shadows.

"We'll be there soon," promised Amber, and reached out to grab the door handle.

There was a horrible mechanical screech, then several klaxons began to sound at once, scaring the group almost senseless. Unable to figure out what the noise was at first, they looked around in confusion, before it eventually dawned on them that these were alarms.

"All right, what did you do?" said Dr Harlech accusingly.

"I didn't do anything!" complained Amber. "Come on, it's not like I pushed a button and - "

"What did I say about pushing buttons when you don't know what they do?" the scientist yelled. "You don't push mysterious buttons! EVER!"

"I didn't push any buttons! Quite apart from the fact that I didn't feel the need to do so, there weren't any buttons for me to push! I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, I'm not responsible for it!" shrieked Amber.

"_Attention all Umbrella employees_," said a pleasant, slightly robotic female voice. "_The emergency biohazard contamination prevention system has been activated - the building will automatically self-destruct in thirty minutes. All employees must proceed immediately to the nearest escape route and begin emergency evacuation procedures. This is not a drill. Repeat - this is not a drill. All employees must evacuate immediately. Self-destruct in thirty minutes_."

"Self-destruct. Oh, _great_," said Jack sourly.

"Oh well, look on the bright side, at least they're giving us plenty of time to escape," said Renée brightly. "Thirty minutes is more than enough time for us to get out of here."

"Well, let's hope so," said Lisa, who wasn't so confident.

"Come on, we have to hurry! There's not much time!" said Amber, yanking open the door and hurrying through.

"Why rush? There's plenty of time," said Renée breezily. "The automated voice thing said we had ages. The place will - "

"_Self-destruct in twenty-nine minutes_," repeated the robotic female voice.

"Yeah, what she said," said Renée, gesturing towards the ceiling.

"Renée, don't just stand there! We have to _go_!" yelled Dr Harlech, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her through the door.

Having already visited the laboratory/labyrinth once before, Amber felt no need to stop and look around, and kept running as fast as she could. The others, however, slowed their pace a little as they entered the divided room.

"What's with this weird laboratory? How come they split it in two?" said Renée, looking around.

"Is that a _maze _on the other side?" said Lisa, squinting in the dark to make out what was on the other side of the glass.

"Why would they use glass for a wall? An' why ain't there a door?" asked Jack.

"I wonder what they used this place for?" said Dr Harlech.

"They used it for conducting tests on Lucifer, and it'll all be blown to bits pretty soon, so don't hang around to admire the scenery! We don't have time to start sightseeing!" yelled Amber.

With these words of wisdom, the scientist, the mercenary and the two teenagers picked up their pace and followed Amber out through the other door at full speed. It took them all of ten seconds to hurry through the little corridor and then through the door at the end.

"Self-destruct in twenty-eight minutes."

"How much further?" gasped Lisa, who was running out of breath and beginning to lag behind the others.

"Not much further, I promise!" Amber called back. "Just through the room on the other side of this catwalk, and then into a stairwell, and then we're there!"

"That's good…!"

As she ran across the catwalk, Amber glanced down at Christina's body, and once again felt a stab of pity for the mercenary. Had things worked out differently, Christina might still be standing here on the catwalk beside her, alive and well and with a drastically altered worldview, no longer a hated enemy but a trusted friend. Instead she was lying dead on the floor far below, with all her useful skills and icy professionalism lost to the world forever. It seemed like such a waste of a short life.

"C'mon, Amber, we gotta move," said Jack, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her along with him.

Reluctantly, Amber tore her eyes away from the spot where the mortal remains of her old enemy lay, though she felt a chill go right through her when she saw the vat where Lucifer had landed. She couldn't see the monster's body, but she told herself that it must already have sunk to the bottom of the vat and out of sight. After all, what other rational explanation could there be?

"_Self-destruct in twenty-seven minutes_."

Amber and Jack reached the other side of the catwalk at roughly the same time, and paused to allow the others to catch up. Renée wasn't too far behind, but Lisa looked as though she was struggling to keep up, and Dr Harlech had gone back to make sure she was all right.

"Nearly there, guys!" Amber shouted encouragingly. "Just a little further now, we're almost there…"

Renée smiled and nodded, and then the catwalk let out a sudden and very loud creak. It was a nasty, treacherous little noise which brought to mind the words "metal fatigue", "perilous" and most of all:

"Uh-oh…"

Lisa, Dr Harlech and Renée all froze, hardly daring to breathe. Their eyes darted from rivet to rivet, trying to find the exact source of the noise. When they eventually looked behind them, they discovered to their horror that the rusting supports that kept the catwalk bolted to the walls were bending alarmingly.

"Don't move!" yelled Amber, from the other side. "It must have been weakened when Lucifer landed on it! Whatever you do, don't make any sudden movements, or the whole thing could give way completely!"

"What are we going to do?" Dr Harlech yelled back.

"Take real small, light steps!" Jack called out, before Amber could even think about responding to the question. "One step at a time, an' take it in turns to move, real slow! You first, Renée!"

Renée lowered her head very slightly to show that she understood, and took one small, hesitant step.

"Great! Now you, Lise!"

Lisa moved forward cautiously, letting her foot come down lightly on the catwalk.

"Good work - Dr H, you next!"

Dr Harlech closed her eyes and advanced by a tiny step, then jumped as the catwalk creaked again.

"_Self-destruct in twenty-six minutes_."

"Can't we go any faster?" grumbled Renée, shuffling forward again. "We'll be here for _hours _at this rate."

"Oh, we won't be here for that long," said Dr Harlech gloomily. "Twenty-six minutes at most."

"That was _not_ a helpful comment…"

Amber and Jack watched the others trying to cross the catwalk with increasing anxiety, as every tiny step from their friends brought forth the tortured groans of rusty metal under stress.

"Jack, this was a good idea, but there's not enough time," said Amber quietly. "Renée's right, this is taking far too long. That catwalk isn't going to stay up for much longer. We're going to have to try something else."

Jack's solemn nodding indicated his silent agreement.

"Change of plan, everyone!" Amber bellowed, trying to make herself heard above the catwalk's increasingly loud creaks and groans.

The others looked up with interest, then winced in perfect unison as a metallic screech set their teeth on edge.

"What's the new plan?" said Dr Harlech.

"Run like hell!"

"I like that plan!"

Abandoning their original strategy, they started to run, trying hard to ignore the horrible metallic squeals that signified the catwalk's imminent collapse. They were almost within arm's reach of their destination when the creaks stopped. The sudden cessation of loud noise meant that they could now hear a tiny little one:

_Snap._

Renée made it across just in time as the supports on one side broke. Lisa gave a little shriek and took a running jump as the closest half of the catwalk sank downwards. Barely clearing the gap, she landed right on the edge and tottered precariously for a few moments before Renée and Amber grabbed hold of her and hauled her to safety.

The other supports, already weakened, were now shrieking in protest at being made to do twice the work, and the other side of the catwalk was already beginning to sag. However, Dr Harlech still stood on the catwalk, too terrified to move despite the urgent pleas of her friends.

"I can't!" she wailed. "I can't jump! I'll never make it!"

"Yes, you will!"

"No, I can't! I can't!"

"You have to!"

"I can't do it!"

"Clarissa, it's going to collapse and it'll take you with it! Now _jump_!"

Dr Harlech hesitated, then she closed her eyes, summoned up all her strength and leapt -

_Snap._

The catwalk plunged downwards, and Dr Harlech's eyes opened wide as she felt the surface fall away beneath her feet. With a gasp, she realised that she hadn't jumped in time; her trajectory fell just short of safety. She concentrated hard on pushing herself further forward, and then her arms shot out automatically to grab the edge of the platform where her friends stood.

She made it, but now her position was just as dangerous as the one she'd been in five seconds ago. Hanging from the edge by her fingertips, with a yawning twenty-foot drop beneath her dangling legs, she knew she couldn't hold on for very long.

"Help me!" she shrieked, scrabbling desperately at the edge.

"It be okay, Dr H, we gonna save you!" said Jack, leaning down and reaching towards the scientist. "Now grab my hand and we pull you up!"

"I - I can't! If I let go, I'll fall!" whimpered Dr Harlech.

"'S okay, Dr H, we ain't gonna let you fall," Jack reassured her. "Now just grab hold of my hand."

"I'm going to die!"

"No, no, you ain't, you gonna be just fine. But if you dunt let us help you, then you gonna fall for sure, so you need to grab my hand, 'kay?"

"_Attention all Umbrella employees. The emergency biohazard contamination prevention system has been activated - the building will automatically self-destruct in twenty-five minutes._"

"Shut up!" Jack yelled at the anonymous voice in the ceiling.

"…_ must proceed immediately to the nearest escape route and begin emergency evacuation procedures. This is not a drill_…"

Dr Harlech's fingers, exhausted by the effort of trying to stop the rest of Dr Harlech from falling to an unpleasant and messy death, could hold on no longer, and let go.

"…_ repeat - this is not a drill. All employees must evacuate immediately._"

"No!" cried the others, horrified.

"… _Self-destruct in twenty-five minutes_."

Amber turned away, unable to watch. She could already see in her mind's eye what was happening, with echoes of the last time she'd seen someone fall to their death in this room.

_She saw Dr Harlech screaming as she fell, saw the scientist's short blonde hair streaming in the wind, saw the look of desperate terror on the young woman's face, saw her falling down and down until…_

"Gotcha!"

Hardly daring to believe it, Amber turned around and saw Jack holding Dr Harlech by the forearm, triumphant in having caught her in the nick of time.

"You dint think we gonna let you escape from us that easy, huh, Dr H?" said Jack, laughing, and he started to pull her up.

The others leapt into action, helping Jack pull the frightened scientist up and onto the platform, where she lay shaking all over with the shock of having almost fallen to her death.

"You okay, Dr H?"

"Almost lost you back there."

"See, this is why you should listen to us more often."

"Lucky I catch you in time, you coulda ended up like Christina if I dint."

"Thank you," gasped Dr Harlech, allowing herself to be helped to her feet.

"Any time," said Jack modestly.

The corroded door which they'd struggled so hard to get to was now right in front of them, tantalisingly ajar. Together, as if by silent agreement that this should be a group effort, they pushed it open and walked through into the final room.

This one wasn't as big as the chemical storage room that they'd just escaped from. It was the size of a fairly small warehouse, dusty-smelling and filled with boxes and boxes of…

"Weapons?" said Dr Harlech in disbelief. "Oh, this is just _priceless_. We're almost out of here, and now we get all the guns and ammo we could possibly need for an escape attempt. Why couldn't we have found this room when we first got here?"

"I was thinking the same thing," said Lisa, vaguely annoyed at having found a veritable Aladdin's cave of weaponry now rather than much earlier, when they'd been most in need of extra firepower.

"Oh well, can't complain," said Renée, shrugging lightly and heading for a crate full of handgun rounds. "I'm going to take this valuable once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to help myself to some fun stuff, maybe get myself a five-finger discount on bullets. Anybody else want some?"

"We don't have time to stock up on bullets," said Amber gruffly. "We have to get out of here."

"Ah, come on, we've got plenty of time left," said Renée, beaming as she stuffed her pockets with boxes of bullets. "We might as well pick up some goodies while we've got the chance, right?"

"_No_, Renée, they're probably all duds anyway," said Dr Harlech, grabbing the delighted mercenary by the arm and trying to pull her towards the far end of the room, where a spiral staircase led upwards to freedom. "Now we - "

Sirens shrieked a warning, and a corrugated iron shutter came crashing down less than six inches from Dr Harlech's face, sealing off the rest of the room and the staircase with it.

"_Warning_," said the pleasant, robotic voice again, drowning out the identical voice behind them as it announced that there was another twenty-four minutes left until the self-destruct system went off. "_Biohazard detected. Emergency escape route cannot be accessed until the threat of contamination has been eliminated_."

Amber and the others looked at each other with undisguised horror in their eyes.

"What biohazard?" Dr Harlech yelled, pounding on the shutter with her fists. "None of us is biohazardous! We've all been vaccinated against the T-Virus! Jack's been cured! We haven't even stepped in anything contagious! Let us out, you sadistic creeps! Let us out, you - "

"Huh?"

"Hey!"

Lisa and Jack found Amber and Renée's hands slammed over their ears, presumably to protect their impressionable young minds from the language that Dr Harlech was bawling at the absent Umbrella personnel who had originally come up with the anti-biohazard contamination systems. Of course, being in high school, they already knew virtually every instance of obscene language in existence, but even Renée was looking shocked, so perhaps Dr Harlech was coming up with some new ones especially for this occasion.

When the tirade stopped and Dr Harlech sagged to the floor, defeated, their ears were unencumbered once more, and they were able to take part in the frantic discussion of what to do now.

"You sure the biohazard ain't me? Look, if it be me, I stay behind," said Jack wearily. "The rest of you can go an' escape. I ain't gonna keep the rest of you here to die 'cause of me."

"We're not leaving without you, Jack," insisted Lisa.

"No, we're not," agreed Amber. "Besides, I don't think it's you, you were cured of the L-Virus."

"Maybe it's the vaccines we're carrying on us?" said Lisa, taking off her backpack and looking at it thoughtfully. "Maybe they're being recognised as having viral content or something."

"No, I doubt it," said Renée, without turning around. "I think we should try and gather up as much ammo as possible and blow a hole in this shutter."

This comment went completely ignored.

"Do you think it's the sample?" said Dr Harlech, turning and reaching for the necklace that she knew to be around Amber's neck. "If it is, then we have to discard - _where is it_?"

"The necklace? Oh, it's here," said Amber, pulling the pendant out of her pocket and handing it to Dr Harlech. For some reason, discovering that the pretty heart-shaped pendant contained a deadly virus had distinctly diminished the necklace's appeal. She no longer saw anything attractive about it; if anything, she was secretly relieved to hand it to somebody else.

"Thank God for that," said Dr Harlech, breathing out. "Now, we have to get rid of this thing right away, or that damn system won't ever let us out. Someone run back into the chemicals room and throw this over the edge."

"All right, I'll go," said Renée, taking the necklace and heading towards the door. She was almost there when the floor was shaken by a massive thump. This was followed by the sound of knocking at the door.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Renée opened the door. 

"Who is it?" she said warily, then shrieked as she saw who was standing outside.

"Kill…!"

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mr Kill's not at home right now, you'll have to come back later!" babbled Renée, and slammed the door again. She leaned against it as hard as she could.

"Uh, guys, you… you, uh, might want to find a couch to hide behind," she announced, making a concerted effort to sound casual and unconcerned, a remarkable feat considering that several large dents were appearing in the door behind her. "Because we have an unwanted visitor standing right on our doorstep, and I'm not sure what you guys did to him, but whatever it was, he looks really _pissed_…"


	41. Countdown To Destruction

****

41: Countdown To Destruction

"_Self-destruct in twenty-three minutes._"

"Well, it's been really nice knowing you all," said Dr Harlech, attempting to smile. "It's been a privilege to try and escape with you; I don't think I could have spent my last day on earth killing zombies with nicer people. I'm just sorry that it has to end like this."

"It doesn't - and it's not going to," said Lisa stubbornly. "What, after everything we've been through together, you're just going to give up? No way! Nobody's giving up! We're getting out of here!"

"Don't get me wrong, Lisa, you're a very brave girl, but even if we could defeat Lucifer, there's not enough time," said Dr Harlech hopelessly. "We can't kill something that can't die in twenty-three minutes. It's impossible."

"Defeating a Tyrant single-handedly is impossible," insisted Lisa. "Finding a cure for the L-Virus is impossible. Defying Umbrella and living to tell the tale - that's impossible too. But we've done all these things! We've _survived_ impossible! And if we can all survive impossible situations on our own, then think what we can do together! Come on, Dr H, we _can _do this, but you have to help us!"

Dr Harlech looked uncertain. Amber and Jack watched, holding their breath as they waited for her reaction.

"Please, Dr H," said Lisa in a much smaller, quieter voice. "Please help us live. It's - it's better than just waiting here to die, right?"

"_Self-destruct in twenty-two minutes_."

Renée ducked as a huge fist slammed into the door from the other side, leaving a sizeable dent where her head had been just seconds earlier.

"Damn it, Dr H, just say yes already!" she hollered. "This door can't hold out much longer! Look, just think of it as a really, really big Tyrant! You can handle one of those, right?"

"Well, yes," said Dr Harlech, with considerable reluctance. "But I only have eight bullets left, and that won't be enough to take it down."

Jack made a sound that resembled a snort of derision.

"You crazy in the head, Dr H?" he said. "You be in a warehouse full of ammo an' you be complainin' 'bout _no havin' enough bullets_? What kind you need? I find 'em for you right now!"

".44 Magnum rounds," said Dr Harlech. "But - "

She didn't even have time to finish the sentence as Jack darted off towards a stack of crates, so fast that he was little more than a boy-shaped blur of blond hair and khaki pants and red-and-black lumberjack shirt.

"That's _not _normal," said Dr Harlech suspiciously. "I think the L-Virus must have changed him somehow."

"But he's cured," said Lisa, looking perplexed. "How is that possible?"

"When I was reading Dr Redmond's diary, I read something about how the hamsters' brainpower and speed was increased after they were cured," called Renée. "That must be what's happened to Jack!"

Jack reappeared again, with his arms full of Magnum rounds; Lisa noticed with amazement that he wasn't even out of breath.

"Here you go, Dr H," he said, and thrust the ammunition into the stunned scientist's arms.

"Thanks," said Dr Harlech, mentally shaking herself. She took out her Magnum and checked the number of bullets inside, putting her new ammunition in her overloaded lab coat pockets.

"Lisa! The door's going to come down any minute! I need my AK, now!" Renée bellowed, now struggling to keep the battered door closed.

Lisa hurriedly shrugged off the assault rifle strap and fished the spare clip out of her pocket, then passed them to Jack, who shot across the room like a teenage whirlwind and presented both items to Renée. Renée discarded the old ammunition clip, which was all but empty; as she snapped the fresh clip into place, she suddenly looked ready to take on the whole city's bioweapon population single-handed.

"_Self-destruct in twenty-one minutes_."

"Okay, here's the plan!" ordered Renée. "Dr H, you and I have the most firepower, so we open fire on Lucifer! The rest of you, spread out and find more weapons - shotguns, Magnums, AK-47s, M16s, RPG launchers, I don't even care if it's a Howitzer - just get whatever you can and use it against Lucifer! We have less than twenty minutes to kill this thing and get the hell out of here!"

"But Lucifer will go straight for you and Clarissa!" Amber objected. "We need something to distract it and draw it into your line of fire!"

"Like what?"

"Like me," said Jack grimly.

"What?" gasped Dr Harlech.

"Jack, no!" said Lisa, horrified.

"Absolutely not!" Amber warned him. "Not after what it did to you the first time! It almost killed you!"

"Yeah, an' that be why I wanna do this," said Jack. "I got a score to settle with that thing, an' I gonna make it pay for what it do to me."

"But you'll never beat it! Lucifer's huge!" exclaimed Dr Harlech. "It's, what, twice your size? It's also a lot stronger than you!"

"Yeah, true," said Jack, momentarily deep in thought, and then he smiled and produced his skateboard from his backpack. "But I bet it ain't as fast as me."

"_Incoming_!" yelled Renée, diving out of the way as the door came crashing down. She rolled as she hit the floor and sprang to her feet again, just in time to see Lucifer stride into the room.

It had seemed impossible, on their first meeting, that Lucifer could be any more hideous and terrifying, but now the creature was even more menacing than ever. Heavily scarred, missing one eye and now scalded by its corrosive chemical bath, steam was rising from Lucifer's seared and blistering skin.

"KILL!" it roared.

Instantly the others scattered; Lisa and Amber ran towards the crates in search of weapons, while Renée and Dr Harlech took up strategic positions among another group of crates, so that they could attack while remaining safely hidden from view.

All that now stood between the massive and intensely evil being and them was a solitary teenage boy with a backpack on his back, a skateboard under his arm and a look of defiance on his young face.

"Well, Lucifer, here I be," he said quietly, looking straight up at Lucifer's face, his bright blue eyes never leaving those of his adversary. "An' here you be."

"_Attention all Umbrella employees_," said the robotic voice, which had gradually lost its pleasant tone, and was now beginning to sound rather too pleased about the building's imminent destruction. "_The emergency biohazard contamination prevention system has been activated - the building will automatically self-destruct in twenty minutes. All employees must proceed immediately to the nearest escape route and begin emergency evacuation procedures. This is not a drill. Repeat - this is not a drill. All employees must evacuate immediately. Self-destruct in twenty minutes_."

"Kill…" hissed Lucifer.

Jack grinned.

"You gotta catch me first!"

He flung down the skateboard with a clatter. As Lucifer looked down to see what the noise was, Jack pulled out his gun and shot the monster twice in the head, then leapt onto his skateboard and sped away across the room. Bellowing with fury, Lucifer chased after him; Renée and Dr Harlech took this as their cue, and opened fire on the creature.

Bullets zinged everywhere. Some of them buried themselves in Lucifer's flesh, but to no effect; the rest just seemed to bounce off. Renée grunted in frustration, but didn't give up. Dr Harlech merely accepted that only some of the shots would hit home and kept firing away, regardless of the fact that Lucifer was ignoring the hail of bullets completely. The monster was so intent on catching Jack that it seemed oblivious to the fact that it was under attack from three different directions at once.

"Find anything?" said Lisa, as she and Amber searched the crates for more weapons. So far they'd found several dud smoke grenades, some throwing knives, which were of very little use, and some bazooka rounds, which were of no use at all.

"No, not yet…"

Jack swerved to avoid a stack of crates, and ducked as Lucifer's single, lethal tentacle scythed through the air, narrowly missing his head. His heart was racing, but he tried to ignore it; any distraction at this point would be the death of him.

_Wall_…

The word loomed large in his mind as the uncompromising expanse of wall filled his immediate vision. Behind him, Lucifer was slowing down, looking almost smug as it realised that its prey was about to run into a wall and knock itself out.

Dr Harlech paused in the middle of reloading her Magnum, and she watched helplessly as Jack hurtled towards impending disaster. Renée watched too, transfixed without really knowing why; Amber, however, was hiding her eyes.

"I can't look," she cried, covering her face with her hands. "He's going to run straight into that wall! That thing's going to get him! He'll be killed!"

But Lisa, glancing up after checking another crate, had noticed the subtle change in Jack's stance and the deepening concentration in his face, and she shook her head.

"No," she said, smiling. "He won't. Watch."

In a sudden blur of movement, Jack jumped. Amber uncovered her eyes just in time to see him rise up from the ground, and she gasped out loud. In blatant defiance of all the laws of gravity, Jack was riding the wall with a look of steely determination on his face.

"How is he _doing_ that?" said Dr Harlech, amazed.

Lucifer was equally nonplussed, and angry about it too. Roaring and lashing out furiously in an attempt to knock Jack off the wall, its fists and tentacle gouged out lumps of plaster and brickwork, to no avail.

"_Self-destruct in nineteen minutes_."

Jack felt oddly serene as he rode the wall, emptying his gun into Lucifer's hide while he jumped from wall to wall to avoid hitting the corners. Though he didn't dare close his eyes and enjoy the feel of the artificial breeze ruffling his hair and clothes, as he normally would have, he was nevertheless filled with a deep sense of elation. The sheer joy of skating - of doing what he did best - was intoxicating, and even now, when he knew that he could be struck down and killed at any moment, he felt on top of the world.

But then he felt gravity starting to kick in and decided that he could push his luck no longer. He jumped off the wall and down onto a long row of stacked crates, bringing his thoughts down to earth with the rest of him. Splinters of wood flew everywhere as the wheels of Jack's skateboard ground the edges of the crates into sawdust. Jack seemed perfectly comfortable about teetering precariously on the edge; almost as an afterthought, he started unloading his gun into Lucifer again.

"_Self-destruct in eighteen minutes._"

Amber and Lisa were still searching desperately amongst the crates for weapons. Their fingers pulled at lids and scrabbled through drifts of Styrofoam pellets and useless bullets in search of anything that they could use to kill Lucifer.

"Hey, I've found something!" Amber cried at last.

"What? What is it?" said Lisa eagerly. "Is it any good?"

"Does an RPG launcher sound good to you?" said Amber triumphantly.

"I thought RPG stood for "role-playing games"?" said Lisa, frowning.

"It does. It also stands for "rocket-propelled grenades", which is a _lot _more useful in combat situations than a quick round of Dungeons and Dragons," said Amber. "Quick, help me get this thing out of the crate!"

Together they struggled to lift the rocket launcher out of the crate. It was the biggest piece of artillery that Lisa had ever seen, on or off television - hard-pushed to describe it, as she didn't know what any of the component parts were called, she thought it looked rather like an enormous metal box, with four large circular slots for ammunition. The rocket launcher was apparently a handheld weapon, although judging by the size of the thing, the hand in question was probably a gorilla's.

"I can't lift this," admitted Amber after a while.

"Me either," said Lisa. "It's too heavy. We need some help."

They were definitely in need of a weapons expert. Fortunately, they knew exactly who to consult.

"Renée!" they yelled.

"Yeah?" Renée shouted back, struggling to make herself heard over the noise of three lots of gunfire.

"We need a little help over here!" yelled Amber.

"Be with you in a minute…"

"No, _not _in a minute! We need you _now_!"

Renée looked at them again, and this time she took in the sight of the biggest rocket launcher that she'd ever seen. Her face lit up when she realised that they wanted her to help them with it.

"Coming!" she yelled, slinging her assault rifle onto her shoulder and rushing over to them, climbing up onto the crates and almost falling off them again in her hurry to get her hands on the rocket launcher. Dr Harlech, who suddenly felt very exposed now that she was on her own, scurried after the mercenary and climbed up onto the crates to join them.

"_Self-destruct in seventeen minutes_."

"Need some help?" said Renée brightly.

"Yeah, give us a hand with this rocket launcher - it's too heavy for us," said Amber.

"I'm on it!" said Renée, making a grab for the rocket launcher.

While Jack kept Lucifer occupied, evading the creature at every turn with the same grace and fluidity of movement that had kept Lisa spellbound when she had been treated to the Street Rats' skating display at Antonio's party, Lisa and the three other women lifted the rocket launcher up and onto their shoulders. Though young and slender, Renée was surprisingly strong and lifted her section of the rocket launcher with barely any effort. Amber was finding the operation much easier now that she had some help, although Dr Harlech, unused to a great deal of exertion and heavy lifting, was still struggling. Eventually, though, they managed to lift the rocket launcher and get to their feet.

"RPG launcher prepped and ready," announced Renée. "Target set?"

They swung the rocket launcher round until it was pointing in Lucifer's general direction. The creature was stubbornly refusing to stand completely still, but was in the same overall location; Jack was running rings around it, and it seemed unsure where to turn.

"Jack, we're ready! Stay out of the way!" called Amber.

Jack looked up at them, nodded, and darted away to the other side of the room. Lucifer looked around, saw its adversary retreating, and prepared to follow. However, four voices rang out:

"Hey, Lucifer!"

The creature stopped in its tracks and looked up. It saw, or at least perceived, four people standing atop a mountain of crates - two of its intended targets, one more that had previously been in its way and was to be killed, and an additional person that it hadn't encountered before.

"Kill!" it snarled.

"Well, Mr Kill's still not here, you know," Renée called out to the monster. "But don't worry, big guy, 'cause he left you a little present - courtesy of Mr Big-Ass Rocket Launcher! Let him have it, girls!"

They fired off the first rocket; it shot out with a whoosh and a puff of smoke and streaked away towards Lucifer.

"Look at it go! Look at it _go_!"

"Bye-bye, Lucifer!"

They ducked down ready to avoid the explosion, but there was nothing but an eerie silence. After a moment, they looked up, only to gasp with dismay. The unthinkable had happened. The rocket-propelled grenade, a sure-fire way to destroy almost anything, had stopped less than an inch from Lucifer's face; the creature had caught the rocket and was holding it between thumb and finger. Then, with a roar, it hurled the rocket straight back at them.

"KILL!"

It stole over them all that there was a rocket heading in their direction, which meant that they were in very big trouble.

"Get down!" screamed Amber.

They ducked just in time; Lisa and Dr Harlech felt the rocket skim past them, close enough to ruffle their hair, before hitting the wall behind them and exploding spectacularly.

_"Self-destruct in sixteen minutes._"

"Quick, try it again! It just got lucky! We can still kill it!" Renée yelled, as they scrambled to their feet again. "Fire!"

The second rocket shot out of the launcher and sped towards Lucifer. But once again the creature was ready for the attack, and it simply batted the rocket away like a cat playing with a ball of string. Once again the rocket had missed its target, hitting only a stack of crates, which exploded with even more force than the first rocket had done.

Flames rose from the burning crates, and the tongues of flame licking away at ammunition and wood bathed Lucifer in an infernal orange glow. It looked more than ever like a demon from the depths of Hell itself.

"Again, quickly!" Renée ordered. "Fire!"

Their hearts rose in their mouths as the third rocket curled away, only to sink again as Lucifer hurled away the rocket, narrowly missing Jack, who dived out of the way just in time to see the rocket blow a hole in the wall.

"This ain't workin'!" he yelled. "I think we oughta try somethin' else!"

"No! One more time!" Renée shrieked over the roar of flames. "Fire!"

Now feeling thoroughly dispirited, they fired off the fourth and final rocket, expecting Lucifer to merely toss it aside once again. But this time the attack had apparently caught the creature unprepared - watching the third rocket exploding, it looked around just slightly too late…

The resulting explosion rocked the entire room, and the five survivors saw their foe disappear right before their eyes, engulfed in a fiery explosion of orange and deepest black.

"YES!" Renée punched the air triumphantly. "Gotcha!"

Amber and Dr Harlech both shrieked with joy and hugged each other, then started dancing around crying "We did it! We beat Lucifer! We did it!". Lisa merely smiled, but inside she was dancing with delight.

The only person not celebrating was Jack, who was staring at the expanding cloud of black and orange with a troubled expression on his face.

"What's the matter, Jack?" called Amber.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" said Renée, laughing. "Cheer up! We beat that thing!"

"It ain't dead," said Jack hollowly.

"_Attention all Umbrella employees_," announced the robotic voice, rather smugly. "_The emergency biohazard contamination prevention system has been activated - the building will automatically self-destruct in fifteen minutes. All employees must proceed immediately to the nearest escape route and begin emergency evacuation procedures. This is not a drill. Repeat - this is not a drill. All employees must evacuate immediately. Self-destruct in fifteen minutes_."

The laughter faded.

"What?" said Renée. "What do you mean it's not dead?"

"Look," said Jack, pointing to the site of the explosion.

They looked. The explosion was starting to clear now, and a shape was begin to emerge from the expanding cloud of smoke and fire. Looming large amid the fading explosion, surrounded ominously by curls of smoke and wisps of dying flames, was the hulking figure of their mortal enemy.

"Oh, _shit_," whispered Renée. "It's still alive!"

Dr Harlech squeaked with terror and hid behind the others, while Lisa disappeared behind some more crates. Amber, however, was too angry to hide and chose to go ballistic instead.

"How the _hell _are you still alive?" she yelled. "How many more rockets and chemical baths and thirteen-storey drops does it take to make sure you don't come back? Why can't you just _die_?"

"What are we going to do?" said Dr Harlech, now clinging to Renée's legs for grim death.

"Die, I suppose," said Renée glumly. "I don't think there's much else you can do when your mortal enemy's immortal and you've only got fifteen minutes to escape."

"Do we have any rockets left?" said Dr Harlech hopefully.

"Nope," said Renée. "We're fresh out of rockets."

Dr Harlech whimpered softly and tried to curl up in a ball while still holding onto Renée's legs, which made her look rather like an abnormally large koala in a lab coat.

"So what _are_ we going to do?" said Amber.

The voice came from behind them.

"Renée, Dr H, you get down off the crates and keep shooting Lucifer! Jack, carry on distracting it for us! Amber, help me with this!"

They obeyed the commands automatically; Jack was back on his skateboard at once, and Renée and Dr Harlech had jumped down off the crates and run halfway across the room before they realised that it had been Lisa telling them what to do.

Amber peered behind the crates and saw the younger girl plunging her arms deep into an open crate, rummaging around inside it for something right at the bottom.

"What is it, Lisa?" she said.

"I've found something that could save us!"

With great care, Lisa lifted out a long-barrelled rifle; Amber's first thought was that it was a sniper rifle of some sort, but then she let out a groan. She'd seen something much like it while investigating the disappearance of an animal at the Raccoon City zoo two years ago, and she knew exactly what it was.

"Lisa, that's not a sniper rifle, that's a tranquilliser gun," she said, sighing. "Those things are for taking down large animals! It's no good to us!"

"_Self-destruct in fourteen minutes_."

"No, you're wrong - it's exactly what we need!" argued Lisa. "If we can stun Lucifer for long enough, then maybe we can decapitate it or something. That'll kill it for sure!"

"What makes you think that?" said Amber.

"Basic biology," replied Lisa. "Decapitation severs the spinal cord and all connections between the brain and the rest of the body. The brain controls all vital functions - without it, the body can't survive, undead or not. My parents are doctors, remember? I used to read their medical textbooks when I was little!"

"Yeah, and that might stop it for a little while, but its entire body is riddled with a virus that mutates human cells - it'll probably just grow a new head or something," said Amber. "Besides, even if we do succeed in getting out of here, the explosion won't destroy it, and it'll just come after us again. I'm telling you, it's no good. And I don't think there's any tranquilliser on earth that's strong enough to work on that thing anyway."

"Well, I'm going to try it anyway," snapped Lisa. "At least it'll give me something to do with the last fourteen minutes of my life."

She delved deeper into the bottom of the crate, and brought out a small plastic box with "Tranquilliser Darts" stencilled on the lid in white. She fiddled with the catch for some moments before it came undone and the box popped open.

"Oh, no," said Lisa, her face falling. "Look…"

Amber picked up one of the darts and examined it. Lisa was right to look and sound dismayed; the liquid inside each of the five darts had long since dried up, and was no more than a faint discolouration on the inside of the glass container.

"_Self-destruct in thirteen minutes_."

"They're useless," Amber said, tossing away the dart. "The tranquilliser must have dried up years ago. Nice try though, Lisa," she added, seeing the disappointment on the girl's face. "It was a good idea."

Lisa turned her head away. Watching Renée and Dr Harlech trying and failing to shoot the monster dead was depressing, but not quite as depressing as having someone trying to cheer up when her great idea had turned out to be a big disappointment.

Jack was doing well, she thought. He'd been leading Lucifer a merry dance for some time now and was showing no signs of tiring or of failing to keep the creature's attention on him the whole time. Having realised that he'd gone off course to dodge another swipe of the monster's tentacle and was now heading straight towards Lucifer, he didn't panic - instead, as Lucifer reached out to grab him, he ducked down and skated right through its legs and out the other side, while its hands snatched uselessly at nothing but smoke-filled air.

"Wow!" yelled one of the others - it could have been Renée, but Lisa wasn't really listening any more. She was too deep in her own thoughts, trying to find a way out of the mess that they were in. They didn't have much time; she had to think of something else, and fast.

"If only those tranquilliser darts hadn't been empty," she said, mostly to herself. "We could have stunned Lucifer with a whole bunch of those things, then found a machete, or a hunting knife or something, and cut off its head with it. That would have done the trick."

She watched Lucifer again, chasing after her best friend and bellowing "KILL!" at the top of its voice, and suddenly she wasn't so sure if this would have worked.

"Well, maybe," Lisa added uncertainly. "It _might _have worked. But probably not."

She sighed.

"No. I'm fooling nobody but myself. It would never have worked."

_That might stop it for a little while, _agreed a memory of Amber, her words replaying inside Lisa's head, _but its entire body is riddled with a virus that mutates human cells - it'll probably just grow a new head or something._

The word "virus" made her think once again of the L-Virus - her parents' creation, once an object of beauty and wonder, and now an agent of death and destruction. Her mother and father had made it what it was in order to protect her, but the cruel irony of fate had dictated that the things they had done to save her life would become the very same things that were putting her in mortal danger.

And then there was the matter of the necklace that Amber had been carrying; Dr Harlech had referred to it as "the sample". That necklace had been worn by her mother, and it had been a key to the L-Project laboratory, so presumably the "sample" was the L-Virus, contained within the pendant.

"_Self-destruct in twelve minutes._"

Lisa looked down at the necklace that she was wearing. Virtually identical to its twin in all but colour, it sparkled in the light. This had been Dr Redmond's necklace, as well as the other key to the L-Project laboratory. What secret was this one hiding?

Maybe it was hiding the same secret that its owner had tried to hide from the other participants of the L-Project…

_I've kept some vaccine samples hidden in a safe place in my lab, and I keep a dose on my person at all times._

These words, suddenly remembered, set Lisa's train of thought rattling off in a whole new direction. She'd found several items on Dr Redmond's body, including this necklace, but no dose of vaccine -

Lisa smacked herself in the forehead. She was so stupid! Her mother's necklace contained the virus, so Dr Redmond's necklace had to contain the vaccine - it was even the same colour as the other vaccines! Why hadn't she figured it out before?

Virus in a necklace. Vaccine in another necklace. Lucifer's body, riddled with virus… and right there, in front of her, was the solution to their problem. Or, more correctly, behind her…

Lisa grabbed her backpack and wrenched it open, burrowing through it for the vaccines.

"What are you doing, Lisa?" said Amber, looking confused. "What are you looking for - the _vaccines_? What do you want those for?"

"Not now, Amber!" cried Lisa, opening up the box of vaccines and unfolding the piece of paper with trembling hands. Her eyes swept through the instructions until she found the words that she was looking for:

__

The vaccine can still counteract the virus posthumously, but this will not revive the patient and will only prevent them from turning into a monster after their death.

What if the patient had already turned into a monster? What then? Would the vaccine still work?

Lisa's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she was trembling even more now.

"Lisa, what is it?" said Amber, leaning over her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm more than all right!"

"What?"

"Amber, _I know how to beat Lucifer_!"

"You - "

Words completely failed Amber. She swallowed, took several deep breaths to calm herself enough to speak coherently, and tried again.

"You - you know - but _how_?" was all she could manage.

"When your boyfriend was brought in, they injected him with the L-Virus. The virus reanimated him and made him mutate into a monster. That means his body is riddled with L-Virus, just like you said. And we have a vaccine for the L-Virus."

"So?" said Amber belligerently. "What good will that do? Giving the monster the vaccine won't bring Joseph back!"

"Exactly my point!" said Lisa triumphantly. "Listen, if the L-Virus has completely taken over his body and it's the only thing keeping him alive, then what would happen if we administered the vaccine?"

"I - I don't know," said Amber, stammering slightly. "What would happen?"

"_Self-destruct in eleven minutes._"

"The vaccine wouldn't make Lucifer revert to its prior state, but it _would _neutralise the virus - and the virus is the only thing keeping Lucifer going. Take away the virus, and Lucifer dies. We have to give Lucifer the vaccine!"

"How?" said Amber, too stunned by the explanation to know what else to say.

"With these!" said Lisa, holding up a tranquilliser dart. "We can't pour the vaccine down Lucifer's throat because it'll tear off our arms and legs, so we'll inject it directly into the bloodstream - just like you'd use a tranquilliser to stun a wild animal!"

"Brilliant," said Amber hoarsely. "That's brilliant! Lisa, you're a genius! Quick, we have to put the vaccine in those darts!"

They set to work immediately, wrenching open the four empty tranquilliser darts and pouring the four remaining L-Virus vaccines into them, then sealing them again. Within seconds, they had four tranquilliser darts filled with the same clear liquid that had saved Jack's life.

Amber picked up the tranquilliser gun and loaded the four darts into the weapon.

"Shall I shoot it, or do you want to?" she asked the younger girl.

"No, you'd better do it," said Lisa. "You're a better shot than I am."

"Okay."

Amber shouldered the tranquilliser gun and took aim carefully.

"_Attention all Umbrella employees_," announced the disembodied robotic voice. Its pleasant tones had gradually vanished following the first announcement, and now it sounded as cold and harsh as an early morning wake-up call in a concentration camp. "_The emergency biohazard contamination prevention system has been activated - the building will automatically self-destruct in ten minutes."_

"Oh, shut up!" Amber yelled. "We _know_!"

__

"All employees must proceed immediately to the nearest escape route and begin emergency evacuation procedures. This is not a drill. Repeat - this is not a drill. All employees must evacuate immediately. Self-destruct in ten minutes."

"Heads up!" Amber called.

As Renée and Dr Harlech held their fire, Jack looked up and saw Amber, poised to fire off the tranquilliser darts. He wondered what they were doing -

Out of nowhere came Lucifer's tentacle, sweeping across and catching him in the stomach. The surprise attack sent him flying across the room with a yell.

"Whooaaaaaa…!"

Jack would probably have gone much further and faster, had it not been for the size of the room. As it was, he slammed into the wall and then dropped to the ground, winded by the blow to his stomach and slightly stunned by the impact.

"Jack!" cried the others.

"'m 'kay," he gasped, picking himself up and managing to fold himself into a sitting position. He couldn't stand up just yet, but it was a start. At least he hadn't been infected again, he decided, after a quick inspection revealed no flesh wounds. That would really have sucked.

Lucifer strode towards him, growling softly -

With a little whistling noise, something flew through the air and buried itself in Lucifer's back with a _thunk_. The creature didn't even seem to notice that Amber had fired a tranquilliser dart at it, and it kept going.

"Try it again!" yelled Lisa. "It's much bigger than normal human beings, so maybe it needs a bigger dose!"

Amber nodded, and fired off another dart. It landed just below Lucifer's right shoulder-blade, and this time the creature staggered slightly. However, it recovered itself and carried on.

The monster was getting even closer to Jack, and he was starting to panic. He'd used up all his remaining bullets on Lucifer, and there were no weapons conveniently within reach. All that he had to hand was his backpack - and, he noticed, his skateboard, lying about a foot away.

Watching Lucifer's ponderous footsteps draw nearer, he had a brilliant idea. Throwing himself clumsily in the direction of the skateboard, he grabbed it, then sat up and kicked it towards Lucifer.

The skateboard rolled across the floor, unmanned. Not noticing this, Lucifer stepped forward, and as its left foot came down, it trod on the skateboard.

Jack had been hoping that perhaps the skateboard would roll away backwards beneath its feet, sending the surprised Lucifer forwards and landing flat on its face with a crash - and this was exactly what happened.

With a terrible roar of anger and surprise, Lucifer fell forwards and landed face-down on the floor with a bone-shaking thud. As Jack struggled to his feet, he noticed that there were now three tranquilliser darts sticking out of Lucifer's back. Miraculously uninjured and, even more miraculously, able to straighten up fully again, he ran across the room to retrieve his skateboard.

"Kill…!"

Jack spun round, with his skateboard under his arm, and watched Lucifer rise up again. This time, however, it seemed rather unsteady on its feet, and it was trembling all over as if with cold or fright. Staggering wildly, it took several steps forwards -

_Thunk_.

The fourth and final tranquilliser dart hit Lucifer right in the chest. And, for a moment, nothing happened.

"Is it working?" said Lisa anxiously.

"I'm not sure," said Amber, biting her lip. "It staggered, but… I don't know…"

"Hey," said Renée, and she pointed towards the monster. "Look!"

Little wisps of steam were rising from Lucifer's skin. Not noticing this, the creature staggered on towards Jack.

"What's happening to it?" said Dr Harlech. "It looks like - oh, dear. I'm not sure if I can watch this…"

Lucifer's skin was shrivelling up and peeling away from the rest of its body, leaving raw red patches of flesh beneath. In the background, the robotic voice announced that there were only nine minutes remaining until the building self-destructed, but this went unnoticed. Lucifer struggled on, but it appeared to be having difficulty breathing.

"K-kill…" it gasped.

"I think it's working," said Amber. "You were right, Lisa!"

They weren't sure exactly what was happening to Lucifer, but the creature's flesh was starting to blacken, and it was beginning to leave a faint trail of blood and dark dust behind it as it lurched towards Jack, paying minimal attention to what was happening to it.

"Now what's happening?" said Dr Harlech, her hands firmly covering her eyes.

"Is it dissolving?" said Renée. "I think it's dissolving…"

Lucifer suddenly stopped in its tracks. With an unearthly moan, it fell to its knees. Its body ruptured in a dozen different places all at once, the wounds widening and becoming great holes as the L-Virus vaccine broke down the virus in every single cell of its body. Then, with one last moan, faint and oddly pathetic coming from the most terrifying creature ever to walk the earth, Lucifer fell to the ground, bleeding.

As the survivors watched, unable to take away their eyes despite the gruesome spectacle unfolding before them, the creature's body started to disintegrate, convulsing briefly and then lying still as the L-Virus antidote finally overcame it. In moments, Lucifer - their deadliest and most persistent foe, all their living nightmares personified - was little more than a large mound of dust.

"Oh my God," said Amber softly. "It's finally dead…"

"Can I look now?" said Dr Harlech, her hands still covering her eyes.

"If you want," said Renée, shrugging lightly. "It's just a big pile of dust now anyway. Nothing really frightening about it."

Dr Harlech uncovered her eyes. She flinched slightly at the sight of the large pile of greyish-black dust, then relaxed.

"I'm glad that's over," she said quietly.

"It's not over," said Lisa, picking up the hamster cage from its resting place, atop a large stack of crates.

"Lisa's right, we still have to get out of here," said Amber. "There's not much time left…"

"Come on then, let's go!" yelled Renée.

As they ran towards the other end of the room, there was a loud beep and a click; to their deep relief, the shutter began to open again.

_"Attention - biohazard has been successfully eliminated. This area is now clear. Access to emergency escape route restored."_

They ran gratefully through to the far end of the room. Renée was the first to get there, with Amber and Jack not far behind, and Lisa and Dr Harlech bringing up the rear, albeit at a dead run. They reached the wrought iron spiral staircase and clambered up it as fast as they could, their feet hitting each step with a loud clank.

"_Self-destruct in eight minutes._"

They reached the top of the staircase, out of breath, and found themselves in yet another stairwell with a second, identical spiral staircase, this one leading down. Renée, Jack and Dr Harlech headed straight for the stairs, but Lisa hesitated, and looked back at the room behind her. Amber saw the brief, regretful glance and knew in an instant what Lisa was thinking.

"Lisa, I'm sorry we couldn't find your parents, but there's no time to look for them now," she told her. "Right now we have to concentrate on getting ourselves out."

Lisa nodded weakly.

"I know," she said, swallowing. "I understand."

"You're a very brave girl, Lisa and a very smart one. I don't know if your mom and dad made it out of here, but I bet that wherever they are now, they're really proud of you," said Amber.  
"_Whoa_!"

The others came rushing back up the stairs, looking shocked.

"I don't believe this!" Renée exclaimed, and she pointed down at the stairs. "How the hell did _they _make it all the way down here?"

"What? Who made it?" Amber wanted to know.

"Come and see," said Renée, dragging her by the arm and taking her down the stairs.

It was dark down here. The illumination was one faint low-wattage bulb hanging high above the stairs and accentuating the shadows. Amber could just make out two people standing with their backs to her. She couldn't see much in the way of detail, but one of the figures was tall, with short dark hair and broad shoulders that indicated a male; the other had shoulder-length dark hair and was, presumably, female. Both wore lab coats.

There was a series of clanks behind her as Jack, Lisa and Dr Harlech followed them downstairs and waited behind them.

Amber stepped forwards into the gloom and cleared her throat.

"Um - excuse me, sir?" she said hesitantly, not knowing what on earth this question would precede, having rejected the three statements that first sprang to mind - "Get out of the way, please, we're trying to escape and we don't have all day", "You're not infected, are you?" and "Die zombie scum", none of which seemed terribly appropriate.

There was a faint sound.

"Unnngh…"

Lisa froze. She recognised the backs of those heads.

"Oh, no," she breathed. "No… no, please…"

Very slowly, the figures turned around, and Lisa felt her breath catch in her throat as faint light fell on the faces of the two people standing before her.

She'd seen those faces before - so many times before. The last time she'd seen them, it had been in a photograph, taken some years ago in the back yard of her house, on a day bright with sunshine and blooming flowers. Those faces had been smiling and happy, alive with joy.

And now here they were in front of her again, their skin ghostly pale, scored with lines of rust-red drying blood, their lab coats bloodstained, their glasses shattered and knocked askew. The man's open-necked shirt had been torn open further, his jeans spattered with blood. The woman's cardigan was stained and full of gaping holes, torn open by clumsy fingers, and blood adorned the little flowers on her skirt.

Lisa would normally have run to their outstretched arms, but now she found herself backing away in terror.

"M-Mom…?" she whimpered. "Dad…?"


	42. Journey's End

****

42: Journey's End

They were dead. She'd come all this way, faced terrible dangers and put herself and her friends in mortal peril several times over, and all for nothing. All her efforts to find her mother and father had been in vain. Her bright, witty father and her overprotective but loving mother, two unique and brilliant people, had been reduced by the T-Virus to shambling, mindless corpses, mere shadows of their former living selves - all because she hadn't got here sooner. She was too late, and now she'd lost her parents forever.

She'd failed.

Jack and the others watched helplessly as the two Dr Hartleys reached out towards their daughter. This twisted family reunion was far worse than anything they had experienced today, including their pitched final battle with Lucifer. Lisa's last remnants of hope had been cruelly snatched away, and her suffering was almost unbearable to watch.

"Lisa, we're so sorry," said Dr Harlech in a near-whisper. "We really are."

"_Self-destruct in seven minutes._"

"I was too late," said Lisa, shaking her head. Tears were rolling down her face, and she shook with the effort of keeping back her sobs. "I was too late - I didn't get here in time, and now they're dead! My mom and dad are dead!"

She could control herself no longer, and burst into tears as numbness gave way to inconsolable grief, the same grief that had overcome her as Jack lay dying upstairs. She was sobbing so hard that it hurt, but the unbearable sense of loss was far, far worse; her chest would stop hurting in time, but she knew only too well that the heartache would never go away.

The others shifted uncomfortably. There were only seven minutes left before the spot where they were standing would be blown to smithereens, along with the rest of the Umbrella building, and there were only two zombies standing in their way, but they were powerless to act. Renée moved her assault rifle, readying it for combat once again, but Amber laid a warning hand on her shoulder, and Dr Harlech brought down a warning foot on her toes.

"Ow!"

"Don't you dare!" hissed Dr Harlech. "You have no right to do that!"

"But they're dead - _ow_!"

"No!"

"Fine! _She _can do it!"

Renée tapped Lisa on the shoulder and proffered the weapon with a meaningful nod in the direction of the late Drs Jonathan and Elizabeth Hartley. Lisa shrank away from it in horror.

"No, I can't!" she cried. "I can't kill my parents!"

"Lisa, it's our only way out! You have to!" Renée ordered.

"No! They're my mom and dad!"

"_They _don't know that! They'll kill you, and the rest of us with you!"

"_Shut up_!" yelled Lisa.

"Lisa, you - " Amber began.

"_You shut up too_!" screamed Lisa. "I don't care what you say, I can't do it! I just _can't_!"

"Lisa, we have to get out of here or we're going to die," said Dr Harlech quietly. "We have to leave now, but we can't go until - until they're gone. I'm sorry, and I know how hard this must be for you, but it has to be done. You have to survive; it's what your mom and dad would want. You know that."

Hot tears streamed down Lisa's face as she bowed her head.

"I know," she murmured. "But I can't leave them here… not like this…"

"Lisa, your parents loved you and they would have wanted you to survive, no matter what - even if it meant leaving them behind," said Dr Harlech. "And if you love them, then don't leave them like this. Help them to rest in peace now that they're dead."

"Self-destruct in six minutes."

Lisa's gaze flickered towards the assault rifle in Renée's hands. Slowly, reluctantly, she handed the hamster cage over to Dr Harlech and turned towards the mercenary.

"Lise, if you want, I do it," said Jack gently, reaching out towards her and touching her hand. "I know you love you dad an' mama, an' you dunt wanna kill 'em. Let me do it so you dunt have to."

"No," said Lisa, moving her hand away from his. "No, Jack, I have to do it."

_I don't want to do this_, she thought, _but if I let you do it, then I'll look at you every day and remember that you killed my parents. I don't want that. It's not fair for me to expect you to do it for me and take the responsibility - take the blame. If their blood has to be on anybody's hands, here and now, then let it be on mine._

Jack nodded solemnly.

"Okay," he said.

Lisa laid her hands on the warm, smooth metal of the assault rifle. She picked it up, and turned towards her parents with a heavy heart. For a moment, she stared at the people that she'd loved for so long, mostly without realising it. She thought briefly of long summer days and happy memories spent playing in the back yard of her house, when the world was wide, her parents were happy and everything was perfect and beautiful.

Those days were gone. They'd never come back. Here and now was nothing but misery, pain and suffering. She had to end it.

Hands shaking, she took aim carefully, aiming the barrel of the rifle right at the chests of her parents' walking corpses. She wondered at first how on earth she could bring herself to do this, how she could ever have enough violence and anger inside her to kill her own parents, even if they were already dead, but then she thought of a word that suddenly suffused her entire body with vicious red rage.

_Umbrella._

_They did this. They killed my parents. They killed everybody - but not us. We're going to survive, and we're going to make them pay… it's what Mom and Dad would have wanted._

"Lisa, there's no more time," said Dr Harlech. "You have to do it now." 

Lisa nodded silently. She took a deep breath, drinking in the cold air. Her finger curled around the trigger as she took one last look at her parents.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes.

She turned her back on the two zombies walking towards her - then whirled round with a scream and pulled the trigger, holding it down as hard as she could. Bullets poured out in a non-stop stream of lead and sank deep into cold, dead flesh, hitting the reanimated bodies of her parents with such force that they jerked and twitched in a macabre dance of death.

Still screaming, ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks, Lisa held down the trigger until both of her dead parents doubled up and slumped to the ground with low groans, their bodies riddled with bullets. Even then, she kept firing until the last of the ammunition ran out; her parents' bodies finally stopped twitching, and lay still.

Lisa stood there for a moment, panting for breath, then let out a howl of anguish and collapsed, sobbing, in a heap on the floor. Jack knelt down beside her, intending to comfort her, but was almost knocked backwards as Lisa threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder, her whole body racked with violent sobs.

"'m so sorry, Lise," he said, hugging her tightly and biting down on his lip. Seeing Lisa so distraught was torture, although he knew that it was nothing compared to what she'd just had to go through. However, it was a strange relief to finally know what had happened to the Hartleys. At least now, he told himself, Lisa could move on.

"_Attention all Umbrella employees_," announced the robotic female voice, with barely disguised glee. "_The emergency biohazard contamination prevention system has been activated - the building will automatically self-destruct in five minutes_."

The rest of the announcement went unnoticed as Renée grabbed her assault rifle and slung it onto her shoulder. At the same time, Amber and Dr Harlech took Lisa by the shoulders, picking her up off the floor and propelling her gently but firmly towards the door, with Jack holding her hand tightly for reassurance.

"Well done, honey, we're really proud of you," said Amber hurriedly, as they ushered the weeping girl through the door and out onto a vast underground train platform. A rusting train sat on the tracks, ready and waiting for its passengers.

"Yeah, what you did was really hard," agreed Renée, gently steering Lisa past some boxes and towards the waiting train. "But you did it, and we're all very proud of you."

"We're really sorry about your parents, Lisa," said Dr Harlech. "We all know how much you wanted to find them again. I just wish things could have turned out differently."

They pulled open the door of the train car and helped Lisa and Jack up into the train. Dr Harlech handed back the hamster cage to Lisa, who nodded in a silent gesture of thanks and clutched the cage tightly to her chest.

"Jack, stay with her," ordered Amber. "Clarissa and I are going to make sure the power's on. Renée's going to the front of the train so she can work out how to drive it."

"You can drive trains too?" said Jack, astounded by the discovery of yet another skill in Renée's already large repetoire of unexpected knowledge.

"Yep," said Renée, grinning. "My dad used to be a train driver before he got a job at the factory. When I was little, he used to let me sit up front in the train with him and watch him work, so I know a few things…"

With this, she darted away, and Jack watched her as she ran along the platform towards the front of the train. Renée pulled open a door, hopping into the train and out of sight. Dr Harlech and Amber were already some yards away, arguing over whether they thought a particular switch was meant to be in the correct position.

Behind him, Lisa was still crying. Jack turned round and guided her towards one of the comfortable-looking leather seats, then sat down beside her and held her hand.

"Sorry things hadda turn out this way, Lise," he said awkwardly. "I know you parents dint like me much, but I be sorry they dint make it. You dint deserve to lose 'em."

Lisa, sniffling loudly, shook her head as she bent down and placed the hamster cage on the floor.

"But things gonna be okay now," said Jack reassuringly, squeezing her hand. "At least you know what happen to 'em now - an' we can go kick some Umbrella ass together. That oughta teach those _pendejos_ to take you parents an' my Aunt Rosa away from us, huh?"

Lisa made an effort to smile, and she wiped her eyes.

"Thank you, Jack," she said. "Thank you for helping me find my parents. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Sure you could," said Jack.

"No, I couldn't," said Lisa earnestly. "I would have been killed about five times over if it hadn't been for you. You were there for me when I needed you, and you kept me safe."

"Well, that be what _amigos_ be for, right?" said Jack.

"Right," agreed Lisa, and wiped her eyes again.

"_Self-destruct in four minutes_," said the automated voice, muffled from distance and the thickness of the train walls, but nevertheless audible. Outside they could hear Amber and Dr Harlech's squabbling increase in volume and pitch, and then came the sound of something metallic grinding further ahead, presumably the result of Renée experimenting with the controls.

"_Gracias_ for doin' the same for me," said Jack, after a moment's pause for thought. "I woulda died if you dint find a cure."

"Oh, come on, Jack, I couldn't let you die," said Lisa, smiling through her tears. "You're my best friend, and you mean everything to me. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know," said Jack, putting on a brave smile to hide his sinking heart.

_Best friend_, he thought. _I love her so much, but she still think "best friend". Damn! I shoulda known she dint mean it when she say she love me back there. She prob'ly only say it 'cause I be dyin' an' she get caught up in the moment. An' now that I ain't dyin' no more, it be back to "best friends"._

But still there was a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind. What if she really had meant it? Maybe she was too shy to say it under any circumstances except the most desperate, when she thought she'd never have the chance to say it again.

_What if she mean it? I have to know…_

"Lise?" he said timidly.

"Yes, Jack?" said Lisa.

"Lise, when I - "

Jack faltered under her gaze. He knew what he had to say, but saying it to her face was so hard. She seemed to drink in every word, not just the ones spoken aloud but the ones in his head, so that when he wanted to say something important like this, the words vanished and he was left with a blank space in his mind where the power to form coherent sentences should have been.

Nevertheless, these words had to be said. Jack concentrated hard, and tried again.

"When I - you know back there, when I tell you I - I love you?" he said nervously. "Did you…?"

He lowered his head, suddenly unable to look her in the eye; Lisa caught his expression, and knew right away what he was trying to say.

"Did I really mean it?" she prompted, and Jack nodded.

"Yeah," he said, his cheeks reddening slightly with embarrassment.

"Well, I - " Lisa began, and to her astonishment she found herself blushing too. "Jack, I - I know you probably think that I said it because I knew you were dying and I didn't want to disappoint you, but - I meant it, Jack, I meant every word, I really did. And I still do."

A couple of moments ago, Jack had been trying to hide his disappointment; now it was all he could do to conceal his delight. He contented himself with a very emphatic nod.

"I know," he said.

The peaceful little interlude was shattered by the sound of the door slamming back on its hinges. Amber and Dr Harlech burst in through the door and threw themselves onto the train, slamming the door behind them.

"Time to go!" gasped Amber.

"Do you think we'll make it in time?" said Dr Harlech anxiously, looking around for a clock but not finding one.

"I don't know, but I think we're about to find out…" Amber replied.

"_Self-destruct in three minutes_," announced the voice, whose presence the entire group was really beginning to resent.

The two women looked at each other.

"We're doomed."

"Yep. Definitely."

They got to their feet and charged up the aisle of the car towards the front of the train, yelling for Renée. Lisa and Jack got up from their seats and followed them through another car to the front of the train, where Renée was sitting in the driver's seat and fiddling with a set of switches.

"This is so cool… I've always wanted to drive a train!"

"Renée, what the hell are you doing? We have to get out of here!" yelled Dr Harlech.

"Keep your hair on, doc," said Renée lazily. "I'm almost done."

She flicked a switch, which produced a loud clunk and a drawn-out metallic groan.

"What was that?" said Lisa, looking around. "That didn't sound good."

"Don't worry, guys, I've got everything under control here," Renée assured them.

She grabbed hold of a large lever near the control panel and pulled it towards her, then pushed a button on her right, leaving a shiny patch of red plastic in the thick coating of grey dust. There was another groan, and then they felt the train start to roll forward.

Renée picked up a microphone from its resting place above the window, blew away the coating of dust, and announced:

"Good morning, everybody - my name's Renée and I'll be your driver for today. Our destination today is currently unknown, but hell, who cares, anywhere's better than Raccoon City. Now, I have a couple of important announcements to make. Firstly, smoking is not permitted anywhere on this train, although passive smoking is probably the least of our worries right now. Secondly, everyone must bow down to me and my awesome driving skills, and thank me profusely at the end of this trip for saving their sorry asses. Thirdly - "

Renée paused for effect, then turned around to look at the others and said meaningfully:

" - could all passengers please get back to your damn seats and stop bothering me, or I'll crash the train into a wall on purpose, just to annoy you. That will be all. Thank you for riding Renée Railways - like you had any other choice."

Renée replaced the microphone and sat down again.

"Heh… I always wanted to do that," she said, grinning.

She returned her attention to the control panel, and a sudden look of surprise crossed her face.

"Well, what do you know?" she said, looking surprised. "It's all automated - you just push the buttons and off it goes. That's a weight off my mind, anyway. At least I won't have to work out which way I'm meant to be going."

"_Self-destruct in two minutes_," they heard the voice announce as the train finally pulled away from the platform, its speed slowly increasing.

"We're not going to make it…" said Dr Harlech, biting down on her left thumbnail and chewing it nervously.

"Yes, we are," said Renée.

Leaving the platform behind, the train entered a long, dark tunnel that seemed to go on forever. The headlights of the train cast a dim glow before them, the rest of the light swallowed up in the utter blackness of the tunnel. Slowly but inexorably, the train began to speed up.

"We're not going to make it," repeated Dr Harlech, a little indistinctly because of her thumb.

"Yes, we are," Renée told her.

The train rumbled on through the darkness, and the tension inside the driver's compartment seemed to thicken with the passing of every second. Even Renée seemed to be slightly on edge.

The dead silence was suddenly broken by a tiny little snap. The others looked round to see Dr Harlech staring in shock at her left thumbnail; she'd chewed the end of the nail right off, and now it was exactly the same length as her other nails.

"We're not going to make it!" she burst out.

"Yes, we _are_!" said Renée, gritting her teeth. "We're going to make it!"

"_Warning_," said the robotic voice, echoing through the tunnel. "_Self-destruct in sixty seconds. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven. Fifty-six…_"

Lisa stared at the rectangular window, the only thing standing between them and the darkness, and she reached out for Jack's hand.

_Goodbye, Mom and Dad. I'm sorry. I always loved you. I only wish I'd been able to understand what you went through to keep me safe… please forgive me.  
_  
"_Forty-eight. Forty-seven. Forty-six. Forty-five…_"

Jack took Lisa's hand without a word, his fingers interlocking with hers and gently squeezing her hand for what little comfort and reassurance it would provide for them both.

Adios, _Aunt Rosa. Marco, Alena, Almond, all my_ amigos y amigas_… I gonna miss you always. But I know you always gonna be with me, the same way my mama always be with me, even though she be dead a long time. I never gonna forget you._

"_Thirty-nine. Thirty-eight. Thirty-seven…_"

Amber stood and stared blankly out of the window, reflecting on the injustice of their situation.

_Other people died because of Umbrella. We lived despite Umbrella. We were the lucky ones. But we've paid a heavy price for survival; we've lost everything but our lives. All we have are the clothes on our backs and proof that Umbrella was responsible for our suffering. But one day, we'll have our revenge. Umbrella won't get away with what it's done to me, to Joseph, to everyone in Raccoon City. I won't let them!  
_  
"_Twenty-six. Twenty-five_…"

Dr Harlech stood in an unhappy little circle of silence, staring at her lost fingernails and remembering the last three years of her life.

_Three years wasted in Umbrella's service, with nothing to show for it but guilt and no fingernails. But I'm no longer a part of Umbrella, and there's nothing they can do to punish me for leaving. They've already taken away my home, murdered my colleagues, corrupted my sister and tried to have me killed. But I survived, and I don't need Umbrella any more. What's more, I'm going to make sure that other blameless employees don't have to suffer in silence like I did. Umbrella mustn't be allowed to hurt anyone else._

"_Eighteen_…"

Renée sat in the driver's seat, idly writing her name in the dust on the control panel and watching swathes of dark tunnel rush past the window as the train ran faster and faster, taking them further away with every passing second. 

_Umbrella sucks. Thanks to them, a hundred thousand people are dead, including all my fellow soldiers. Good men died because of Umbrella's sick experiments, and for what? For a few dollars an hour? For the price of keeping their families safe? Even Christina is dead now, and she'd survived everything else that life could throw at her. I'm the only one left. One, out of dozens and dozens of people… it's sick, how they play with people's lives, like we don't even matter… but I'll show them. All of us, we'll show them that people like us matter, and we'll kick their big corporate ass right the way down Wall Street! We shall overcome!_

Faster and faster, picking up speed all the time, the rusty old train rattled down the tunnel, the final countdown to destruction ringing in its passengers' ears: 

"_Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven_…"

There was nothing but darkness ahead of them, and it seemed to the five people inside the train that there was no hope of escape.

"This is it," said Dr Harlech gloomily. "We're dead. We are _so_ dead."

"We are so _not_ dead!" snarled Renée, flicking every switch and pushing every button in sight, turning dials and pulling levers with all her might. "Not now!"

"_Ten_," announced the voice. "_Nine. Eight. Seven. Six_..."

Whether or not it was something that Renée had touched, they didn't know, but the train suddenly put on an extra burst of speed, racing through the tunnel so fast that everything seen from the windows was little more than a dark blur. 

And then they saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Yes! Come on!" Renée yelled, urging the train to go faster.

"_Five… four_..."

The train sped towards the faint patch of dark blue light at the end of the tunnel. It was coming closer now, so close that they could almost reach out and touch it…

"_Three… two… one…_"

"Come on, come on, come on!"

"_Zero_…"

The train shot out of the tunnel with a roar, like a bullet from a gun, emerging just in time for a massive explosion to rip away all sound from their ears, rock the train on its rails and make the world turn white. Lisa, Jack and the others closed their eyes…

… and then opened them again, cautiously feeling their faces, unable to believe that they could possibly have cheated death yet again. When they'd recovered sufficiently to understand that yes, they really had survived, they all got up and rushed towards the back of the train, throwing open a door at the end of the final car and running out onto the open-air platform.

They leaned on the railings and watched as the explosion behind them bloomed like an enormous flower with fiery petals of orange and deepest black, tinged at its heart with bright yellow. In the dark blue light of impending dawn, it was a strangely beautiful sight.

The wind whipped through their hair as they watched the explosion consume the Umbrella building from within, utterly engulfing the towering office block in clouds of smoke and fire. When the explosion began to clear, they could see the smoking ruins of the building collapsing, floor by floor, into a smouldering heap of rubble.

"Ha!" yelled Amber, pointing to what remained of the Umbrella building. "You _suck_!"

"I can't believe it!" Dr Harlech was besides herself with joy. "We survived! I thought we were dead for sure, but we survived!"

"And we got to see an Umbrella building blow up!" exclaimed Renée, jumping up and down like a small, excitable child. "Explosions are cool! We should blow up Umbrella's property more often!"

Laughing with delight and the sheer relief of having survived to see another day, the three women hugged each other in turn, then turned their attentions to Lisa and Jack, hugging the two teenagers tightly. When they finally settled down, they decided that it was too cold to be standing outside at four in the morning. They went back through the open door and into the warmth of the train, closing the door behind them.

When they had finally gone, Lisa and Jack looked at the last clouds of smoke and dust rising from the spot where the Umbrella building had once stood, then looked at each other, and smiled.

"It's over," said Lisa, breathing out. "It's finally over."

"Yeah," said Jack. "I guess so."

Suddenly, horribly aware that saying these words might have conjured up something dreadful, they looked around quickly, then realised the utter ridiculousness of what they were doing and burst out laughing.

"That's when you know it really is over," said Lisa, still laughing. "When nothing jumps out at you after you've said something foreboding."

"Yeah…"

They looked around again, burst out laughing a second time, and then threw their arms around each other in a hug.

"It's good to be alive," said Lisa, nestling her head on Jack's shoulder.

"'s just good to be with you," murmured Jack, and on a sudden impulse, he kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Lise."

Lisa looked up at him and took a step backwards, and Jack's heart caught in his throat - maybe it had been a mistake to do that, he thought, starting to panic - but then she smiled warmly, banishing his doubts.

"I love you too, Jack," she said.

She stepped forward again, reaching out to touch his face and stroking his cheek gently. Jack started slightly, taken aback at first by this unexpected show of affection, but then he cast away his reservations and decided to enjoy the moment while it lasted. He wasn't sure if this was really happening to him, or whether this was a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep; either way, he didn't care. Lisa had told him that she loved him. That was all that mattered.

He put one arm around Lisa, and then the other, drawing her closer to him. Lisa slid her arms around his neck, looking up at him and smiling contentedly.

With the slightest of efforts, Jack moved his face a little closer to hers. A little closer again, and again, until all he could see or hear or feel was Lisa. Her scent, her warmth, her heartbeat; there was nothing else but her.

Jack closed his eyes, and slowly brought his mouth to hers.

A kiss might have seemed like the most simple and ordinary thing that could have happened to Lisa and Jack in the past twenty-four hours. To Lisa and Jack, however, it was the most extraordinary event of all, simply because neither of them had thought it would ever happen.

Even though they both felt ready to drop dead with exhaustion, they nevertheless felt more alive in this one moment than they had ever done before, as if their first kiss was somehow breathing life into them both. Pain, fear, sorrow; all of it suddenly paled away into insignificance, melting away with the terrors of the night as the city rushed past them and the sky above them gradually lightened in hue.

Parting from Jack rather reluctantly, Lisa said nothing, not wanting to spoil the moment; instead she merely smiled, and let him hold her as they watched the outskirts of Raccoon City slowly receding into the distance.

_Farewell to our lives. Farewell to our homes. Farewell to those we loved and lost, and had to leave behind. But this isn't the end - far from it. This is a new beginning for all of us.  
_  
They stood there and watched until the last few buildings had faded out of sight, then turned away and went back into the train.

Warmth hit them like a soft pillow to the head as they re-entered the car. After the cool morning air, it made them both feel drowsy. Ahead of them, sprawled across the comfortable seats that lined the walls of the train, were Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech, quietly discussing something amongst themselves. Between them lay Amber's open briefcase and an untidy drift of papers and diaries, which they were poring over industriously.

"Oh," said Lisa, remembering what was in her backpack. "Amber, you might want to have a look at these if you're going over the paperwork."

She took off her backpack, pulling out Dr Hazlitt's memo and her parents' diaries. She handed them over to Amber.

"Thanks, Lisa," said Amber, placing them in the pile. "I'll take a look at those in a minute."

Lisa nodded, and let her eyes wander over to the hamster cage. Its occupants were apparently doing well despite the trauma of the last few hours; the two little hamsters looked quite content with their lot in life, especially now that they were somewhere warm and safe again. One of them was nibbling gently on the edge of the red bandanna that she'd wrapped around the cage handle.

"We oughta think of names for 'em," suggested Jack, as Lisa untied the bandanna.

"Yes, we should," said Lisa vaguely. "Maybe tomorrow…"

She yawned hugely.

"It be tomorrow already, Lise," said Jack, laughing.

"Later, then. I'm tired."

Lisa dropped the red bandanna onto Amber's pile of paperwork and made her way towards the seats lining the other side of the train. She sat next to Jack, who was slouching comfortably, and rested her head gently on his shoulder; he hugged her again, and kissed her on the forehead.

Amber had picked up the bandanna and was staring at it in shock. Dr Harlech and Renée looked up from the papers they were reading and saw her turning it over and over in her hands.

"Amber, what is it?" said Renée.

Amber stared at them both for a moment, then burst into floods of tears.

"This was Joseph's lucky bandanna!" she wailed. "He wore it every time he went on a mission! He was w-wearing it the last time I saw him - the last time I ever saw him alive! The night he - he - the night he _died_!"

The two former Umbrella employees looked slightly startled to find a police officer throwing herself into their arms with a loud sob, particularly one who despised anything and everything to do with the company responsible for her boyfriend's death, but they did their best to comfort her nonetheless.

"Amber, don't cry…"

"It'll be all right…"

"I'll get them!" Amber sobbed. "I'll get them if it's the last thing I ever do!"

"So will we, Amber," promised Dr Harlech. "We're going make them pay for what they've done to us."

"We'll make them pay for what they've done to _all_ of us - right, kids?" said Renée.

They looked around.

"Kids?" repeated Renée, blinking.

But Jack and Lisa were oblivious to what was happening around them. The comfortable leather seats, the warm air, and the rushing sound and motion of the train running along the tracks had lulled them both into a sound sleep.

xxxxxxxxxx

"… what do you mean, a _slight problem_?"

The sound of Amber's voice raised to fever pitch was enough to rouse Lisa from her deep sleep. She raised her head blearily, opening her eyes as best she could, but then she sank back down, still exhausted from her ordeal.

Beside her, Jack stirred slightly but didn't wake up.

_Lucky you,_ thought Lisa, wincing as she raised her head again and felt her skin peel away from the leather seat covering. _I guess you can sleep through anything…_

Through the crust of sleep that gummed her eyelashes together, she could just make out Amber gesticulating wildly at Renée, who had shrunk back against the wall and was looking defensive.

"Well, don't blame me!" she heard the young mercenary protest. "It's not _my_ fault! This train's running on automatic, remember?"

"Okay, fine. So where is this thing heading?" said Amber, calming down a little.

Renée mumbled something that was unintelligible to Lisa, but Amber and Dr Harlech had obviously heard what she said, because they both shrieked:

"_What_?"

"I _said_, it's going to Rose Bay City!" said Renée, much louder. "And it really isn't my fault! Look, you think I _want_ to go there now that I'm meant to be missing, presumed dead? No, of course I don't! But it looks like we don't have much choice!"

Lisa sat up, rubbing her eyes. She could see much more clearly now. Bright sunlight was streaming in through the windows of the train, glinting off the bars of the hamster cage and the locks on Amber's briefcase, and shining down on the now all-too-common sight of her fellow survivors arguing fiercely with each other.

"Well, we'll have to _find_ a choice, won't we? We can't go to Rose Bay City!"

"I'm well aware of that, but what do you think we can do about it?"

"I don't know, but we'd better think of something! We're halfway there already!"

"What's happening?" said Lisa sleepily, yawning and sitting up.

Dr Harlech, Renée and Amber all turned round to look at her in surprise; they hadn't expected either Jack or Lisa to be awake yet. Nevertheless, they set aside their discussion for the time being and greeted Lisa with pleasant, if slightly sheepish smiles.

"Morning, Lisa," said Renée brightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," said Lisa. "Really tired. What time is it?"

"Oh, about eight in the morning," said Renée, checking her watch. "Eight-oh-two and thirty-eight seconds, to be precise."

"Did any of you get any sleep?" Lisa enquired.

Renée shook her head.

"Nope," she said, with an extra edge of perkiness in her voice.

"You have _no right_ to sound that happy at this time in the morning," said Lisa accusingly.

"Oscar Wilde once said that only dull people are brilliant at breakfast," agreed Dr Harlech.

"Oscar Wilde said a lot of things," said Renée dismissively.

"Including that," Dr Harlech pointed out.

"Hmm," said Renée. "Just as well I skipped breakfast, then."

"So… what's going on?" asked Lisa.

"Put it like this," Renée explained. "This train is almost fully automated. That's why it's driving itself - I don't need to control it. But the problem with not really needing to control it is that I _can't _control it, and so I can't control where it's going."

"The train's not out of control, is it?" said Lisa, feeling her heart start to pound faster in her chest.

"No, no," said Renée breezily. "Not that. No, the problem is that we're currently on our way to the Umbrella company train depot just outside Rose Bay City."

"Umbrella? But they'll kill us!" cried Lisa.

"Precisely," said Renée. "And therein lies our predicament."

"What are we going to do?" said Dr Harlech, automatically raising her fingers to her mouth, before remembering that she didn't have any fingernails left to chew, and letting her hands drop down to her sides again.

"We're going to have to stop the train," said Amber grimly.

"What? Are you crazy? We're in the middle of the desert, Amber!" cried Dr Harlech. "You know, desert? With the sand and heat and vultures and death and stuff? We can't do that! We'll die of thirst! Or vultures! Or both!"

"Calm down, Clarissa. We'll work something out," said Amber. "Is there a map somewhere that we can look at?"

"I think I saw one in the driver's compartment," said Renée, heading towards the door.

Lisa sat back in her seat and watched as the three women traipsed down the aisle of the train in search of reliable cartography. When they were out of sight, she turned her attention to the sleeping form of Jack.

"Jack," she said softly, and nudged him. "Jack, wake up."

"Hmm…?"

Jack's eyelids fluttered open. He blinked a few times, looked around, then sat up.

"Are we there yet?" he said, yawning.

"No, not yet," said Lisa. "In fact, we're still trying to work out where "there" is going to be. It might be the middle of the desert if Amber's to be believed."

Jack's forehead creased with confusion.

"Huh?" he said slowly. "What you talkin' 'bout, Lise?"

"We're headed for a place called Rose Bay City," Lisa told him. "Umbrella's got a train depot there, and we don't think they're going to be terribly happy about us showing up on their doorstep. We're looking for somewhere else to go."

"Oh," said Jack, looking slightly more enlightened. "Right."

Renée returned shortly afterwards with an oversized and rather dusty map of the state flapping around her like the wings of a strange butterfly. Amber and Dr Harlech trailed behind her, trying without success to read the map over Renée's shoulders.

"Get off, will you?" said Renée rather irritably. Kneeling down, she laid the map on the floor of the train car and spread it out, smoothing out the folds and creases until it was flat.

"Okay," she said, as the others gathered around to look. "This is a map of the Arklay mountain region. Behold, the Arklay mountains."

They stared at the mass of brown shading and contour lines that represented the Arklay mountains, surrounded and half-covered by the nebulous dark green area that represented Raccoon Forest. Amid the dark green was an irregularly-shaped white box set in an area of lighter green - this was marked "Spencer Mansion Estate". Further up, next to a symbol that, according to the key, represented a bridge spanning the Marble River Gorge, was a pair of white boxes marked "Umbrella Management Training Facility" and "Chapel". There was a black line - "railroad" - leading past these two buildings.

Amber repressed a shudder as she saw these markings. These seemingly innocent little white boxes and markings represented places of unimaginable horror where her closest friends had suffered and died.

"And - "

"Hey, look," interrupted Dr Harlech, pointing to a small cluster of markings high up in the mountains. "I can see my house from up here!"

"You live _there_?" said Amber, gaping. "Just _how_ much did you say you earned per annum, Clarissa?"

"Not enough," said Dr Harlech with a sigh. "It's not actually a house; it's an apartment, but a very nice one. It belonged to my parents - we used to live in Arklay - and they left it to us in their will. My sister didn't want it, she was earning much more than me and she had a nice house in uptown, plus a summer home somewhere else in the mountains, so she let me have it as a little pied-à-terre, for when I wasn't working. Needless to say, I haven't seen the place in years. It's probably covered in dust by now. Hell, the _dust_ is probably covered in dust by now."

"Lucky you," said Amber enviously. "I could barely afford an apartment in downtown, let alone a place in Arklay. I always wanted to live there."

"Arklay's overrated," said Dr Harlech dismissively. "Not much more than a fading ski resort slowly sinking into obscurity. And it's always cold there. It's always snowing or raining."

"Still," said Amber, looking impressed. "Your parents must have been pretty rich, huh?"

"Yeah," said Dr Harlech, and bitterness suddenly clouded her face. "They had plenty of money, but only for my sister. They paid for Linda to go to an Ivy-League university and gave her all the money she wanted, but they made me support myself right the way through medical school - they wouldn't give _me_ a penny. I guess it taught me to be independent, though. I'm only sorry I allowed myself to become so dependent on Umbrella… next time I'm _definitely_ reading the small print at the bottom of my contract."

"Ahem," said Renée, with a meaningful cough. "Not that Memory Lane isn't nice to wander down every now and then, but we're currently headed along the Railroad of Doom towards the Umbrella Depot of… uh, More Doom. Which is way more important to us right now than childhood memories. Now shut up and let me work this out."

Dr Harlech and Amber fell silent.

"Thank you," said Renée. "Now, _here_ we have Raccoon City - " she pointed to a large grey and green urban sprawl with dozens of tiny white boxes and markings like "Hospital" and "Clock Tower", then she moved her finger right across a distressingly empty expanse of map and stabbed it triumphantly on another, slightly smaller area of grey with some white boxes - "and _here_ is Rose Bay City."

They stared. In between the two towns was a long black line - the railroad - and an awful lot of sandy-coloured nothingness.

"Well," said Lisa brightly, pointing to a very small blob of grey in the middle of the sandy-coloured nothingness. "There's a town over there, look. Willowherb. We could jump off the train and walk there, and we'd be there by - "

"Midnight tomorrow," supplied Dr Harlech.

"Yes, and it's only - "

"Seventeen miles away," said Renée flatly.

"In the desert," said Dr Harlech.

"In the wrong direction," said Amber.

"Lisa, we already _passed_ Willowherb," said Renée. "It's no good to us."

"I give up, then," said Lisa, sighing. "What are we going to do?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Hey," said Jack suddenly, pointing to something on the map. "You see that?"

"See what?" said Renée, suddenly interested, and she pushed aside his finger to see what he was looking at. When she saw the small marking beside the long black line of the railroad, however, she sighed and shook her head.

"That symbol stands for an old water tower, Jack. It's nothing special."

"No, _next_ to it," Jack persisted. "You see it?"

Renée peered closely at the map. Aside from some grey smears where she'd brushed off the dust while smoothing out the map, she couldn't see anything next to the old water tower.

"No, I don't - hey, wait a minute," she said, squinting. "I think I _can_ see something…"

She carefully wiped away the remaining smears of dust, and uncovered a hidden treasure - a tiny cluster of white boxes at the end of a faint brown line, set some way back from the railroad. It was marked "Tumbleweed".

"Well done, Jack," she said, giving him a long, appraising look. "I think you just found our next destination…"

Renée stood up.

"Attention all passengers," she announced. "There has been a slight change to our itinerary for today - the 4 a.m. train to Rose Bay City will now be terminating at Tumbleweed, because the driver doesn't think that getting shot by Umbrella's security guards at the Rose Bay City depot is her idea of a rewarding experience. Please remain seated, and brace for impact!"

She scurried away in the direction of the driver's compartment. The others looked at each other in faint bewilderment.

"What did she mean, brace for impa - "

_Wham!  
_  
With a terrible screeching of brakes, the train slammed to a halt; they all fell backwards, hitting their heads on the floor simultaneously.

"Ow!"

"_¡Hijo de puta_!"

"Dammit, that hurt!"

"Renée, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to kill us all or what?"

Renée emerged from the driver's compartment, grinning.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this train is now terminating at Tumbleweed," she said cheerfully. "While disembarking, please ensure that you take all your belongings with you, including luggage, weaponry, L-Virus antidotes, vital paperwork that serves as the only proof of Umbrella's guilt, and small fluffy animals rescued from laboratories. Thank you for travelling with Renée Railways. Have a nice day."

She opened the door and hopped off the train, landing gently on the parched earth next to the tracks.

"Well, come on, then," she said impatiently, turning round and gesturing for the others to follow her.

Amber was the first to jump down. Lisa followed, rather hesitantly, jumping down and landing on the ground on all fours. Jack, the next to jump out of the train, landed rather more neatly and helped her to her feet. Dr Harlech jumped down with the intention of landing gracefully, but instead ended up in a heap on the ground.

"Ow…"

"Are you okay, Dr H?" said Lisa, picking up the unfortunate scientist and helping her to dust herself off.

"I'm fine, Lisa," said Dr Harlech. "Happens all the time. I always was clumsy."

"Right, has everyone got everything they need?" said Renée. "Briefcases? Backpacks? Hamster cages?"

The others nodded; Lisa, however, gave a squeal of horror and scrambled back up into the train, reappearing a moment later with the hamster cage in tow.

"Is that everything? Yes? Right then, let's go," said Renée, leading them around the rusting bulk of the train and across the train tracks.

Just visible on the shimmering horizon was the small collection of buildings known officially as Tumbleweed. As they started heading across the desert, following a faint dirt track in the direction of the town, Amber stopped.

"What about the train?" she said, pointing back to it. "Surely we just can't leave it there? Someone's going to wonder why there's an Umbrella train sitting on the tracks in the middle of nowhere."

Renée stopped to consider this for a moment.

"You're right," she said. "We have to blow it up."

"Blow it up? That seems a little… extreme, doesn't it?" said Dr Harlech, looking startled.

"Well, we have to destroy the evidence," said Renée, with a light shrug. "Best way to do it."

"Uh… if you say so…"

"I say so," said Renée firmly, rummaging in the depths of her utility belt. Eventual further rummaging produced five grenades - squat, oval, army-green objects that looked not unlike little unripe pineapples with a circular pin stuck in the top. She handed these out to her surprised and rather nervous-looking companions, keeping the last one for herself.

"Good morning, everybody, and welcome to Grenades 101," she said. "This is a very simple class. First, we make sure that we're within throwing distance of the target. Let's get a bit closer, shall we? These are going to fall short if we throw them from here."

She turned around and led them forwards until they were within throwing-distance of the train again.

"Can everyone hit the train from this distance? Jack, Lisa, is that okay? Yes? Good. Now, for the interesting bit."

Renée held up her grenade.

"I assume you all know that grenades are explosive devices. Therefore, you need to be careful. The correct method of grenade-throwing involves _not_ dropping it on your foot, _not_ forgetting to let go, and _not_ hitting the wrong target by mistake. Now, see this pin?"

They all nodded.

"You pull the pin out with one hand, and throw the grenade at the target with the other. Make sure you throw the right bit - that's the most important part. A friend of mine called Luke once threw the pin instead of the grenade by mistake during training. I'm sure I needn't explain what happened next."

The others winced.

"Yep. That's why they call him "Luke - No Hands". So remember which bit you need to throw: the grenade, _not_ the pin. Repeat - _not_ the pin. Got that?"

Looking even more nervous, the others shuffled their feet. Dr Harlech was eyeing her grenade with extreme apprehension, as if she was afraid that it might suddenly go off without warning.

"All right then, that's basically it. Everyone ready? Okay! On the count of three, you pull out the pin and throw the grenade at the train! Ready? One… two… three!"

Seconds later, all five grenades - plus two pins thrown by mistake - were sailing in a graceful arc through the air. Their former owners watched as the little green objects smashed through windows and bounced into the train cars. Almost instantly, the train exploded, showering the tracks with burning debris.

"Cool!" said Renée, with considerable enthusiasm, as the fireball expanded outwards and engulfed what remained of the train. "Can we do that again?"

"_No_, Renée. I think we've destroyed enough of Umbrella for today " said Amber patiently, putting a hand on the mercenary's arm to restrain her. "Maybe tomorrow we can go and find something else with the Umbrella logo on for you to obliterate."

"Sounds good to me," said Renée, beaming from ear to ear.

"Me too, come to think of it," said Dr Harlech, suddenly looking thoughtful. "I must say that destroying Umbrella bit by bit has a certain appeal. I'm not too bad at this grenade-throwing business either - I don't suppose there's an Advanced class, is there?" she added hopefully.

"Nah, not really," said Renée. "Pull pin, throw grenade, watch the target go boom. That's about it. But I can teach you some other useful junk about combat if you want."

"That would be nice."

They stood and watched as the flames rose higher, smoke curling from the burning wreckage of the train and rising high into the cloudless morning sky. Their escape was complete, the enemy vanquished - for now, at least - and soon their lives would return to something that vaguely resembled normal. Life, they thought, was good.

Leaving the smoking, twisted shell of the train behind them, they turned around and headed into the desert. Ahead of them lay Tumbleweed, glittering like a small and rather dusty jewel in the morning sunshine. With light hearts and eagerness they headed towards the town; towards food, hot water, safety, sleep, and their future.

_A/N: Okay everybody, we're almost there now - the epilogue's coming soon and should be posted in a few days' time. Hope you're still enjoying the story._


	43. Epilogue: Friends Reunited

**43: Epilogue - Friends Reunited**

**Friday 2nd October, 1998**

Tumbleweed was a one-horse town. At least, it had been once; after some thought, Renée had concluded that the horse in question had died of acute boredom.

According to the weathered wooden sign that had been erected beside the dirt track, Tumbleweed had a population of one hundred and fifty-one people, although it was unclear where they all were; Renée's theory was that they had all gone to the horse's funeral and not bothered to come back. Dr Harlech's rather more plausible theory was that the population had once been one hundred and fifty-one but had since declined with the town's dwindling fortunes, and that the sign simply hadn't been updated in some time.

Most people would have dismissed the little town as nothing but a collection of weathered buildings in the middle of a dry, barren wasteland. It consisted of a gas station, a diner - imaginatively named "Earl's Diner" - a few wooden houses bleached white by the burning sun, and a large saguaro cactus, which was probably the most lively thing in the whole town.

To the weary group of survivors, however, Tumbleweed was heaven on earth. Hot water, clean clothes, food and sleep had taken away the filth and fatigue of the past few days, and before long, Lisa, Jack, Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech started to feel quite at home in the little town. After three days, everyone in town knew who they were, and their ordeal had earned them a certain amount of celebrity, which meant free food and drink from the locals in return for stories about their escape from Raccoon City.

It was just after dawn now, and the five of them were still sitting in Earl's Diner after another late night of story-telling. The diner's regular clientele had long since drifted away, heading back to their little sun-bleached houses to sleep; only one, an elderly man, had since returned, and he was sitting at the counter on one of the red leather barstools, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspapers. Earl himself was asleep behind the counter, his head nodding gently, while around him, neon signs buzzed and the ever-present waitresses scurried back and forth across the diner, wiping tables and carrying away dirty dishes.

Amber and Renée were currently sitting in one of the booths near the dusty plate-glass window. Paperwork was spread right across the table, and Amber was poring over every scrap of evidence that they'd collected on their travels, occasionally sipping from a rapidly-cooling cup of black coffee. Renée was in no mood for reading at this early hour; instead she was shovelling food into her mouth at the slow but quietly determined pace of someone who intends to go on eating for several hours.

Dr Harlech, who never ate anything until at least 10 a.m. and was heartily sick of studying reams of paperwork, had decided that now would be a good time to improve on the sickly white pallor of a skin tanned only by fluorescent lights. She was sitting outside on the dusty ground outside the diner, sunning herself and making polite conversation.

"… oh no, I couldn't agree more," said Dr Harlech pleasantly. "You're quite right; the weather's lovely. A lot of people would say it's too hot, but personally I love the sunshine. I grew up in Arklay, you see, and it's hardly ever sunny there. And of course I've spent most of the past three years working in an artificially-lit environment, which means I haven't seen much of the sun. It's no wonder I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder… what's that? I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. You're awfully quiet, you know. Then again, that's probably my fault, I'm always talking and never letting people get a word in edgeways. Just tell me to shut up if you think I'm talking too much. No? Oh, all right - but do tell me if I'm annoying you. My sister always told me that I talk way too much for my own good…"

Amber glanced up from the late Dr Morton's journal and looked out of the window. She stared at Dr Harlech for a moment, then broke into a broad grin. Dr Harlech was chatting away contentedly, completely undeterred by the fact that she was carrying on both halves of a conversation with a particularly unresponsive member of the community.

"Do you think she knows that she's talking to the cactus?" said Amber, turning to Renée.

"Probably not," replied Renée, in between mouthfuls of eggs and bacon. "She left her glasses on the table."

She nodded towards the pair of spectacles that had been placed carefully on top of a pile of papers and then forgotten by their absent-minded owner.

Amber picked them up, looked out of the window, then put them back down again.

"Do you think we should tell her?" she said.

Renée considered this option for a moment. She looked briefly out of the window at Dr Harlech, still talking earnestly to the cactus, and then returned her attention to her breakfast.

"Nah," she concluded. "She's happy. Best to just leave her alone, I think."

"Okay."

Renée drained her coffee cup. When she was sure that Amber was once again fully absorbed in her paperwork and unlikely to notice, she reached over and drained Amber's coffee cup too.

"Hey, Arlene! Can you get some more coffee over here?" she called.

Instantly, one of the waitresses appeared at the table, smoothing down her short red dress and white cotton apron. She was a moderately attractive girl with high heels, a low neckline and golden hair piled up on top of her head. Her modest charms, however, were entirely wasted on the two women sitting at the table. Nevertheless, she smiled brightly. She quite liked the new arrivals from Raccoon City, even if they were a little strange.

"We're all outta coffee," she said. "Sorry 'bout that. I'll go make some more for y'all."

"No problem," said Renée. "Take your time, Arlene. It's not like we're in a hurry to go anywhere. Oh, and can you fetch an extra cup over here?"

"Sure thing."

Arlene headed for the kitchen door, limping slightly. Amber glanced up again and frowned.

"She really shouldn't be wearing those shoes," she said, shaking her head in disapproval. "Not for a waitressing job. They're no good to walk in and they're murder on your feet."

"A former waitress speaks, huh?" observed Renée.

Amber nodded. "Yeah. I got my first job as a waitress when I was still in high school. I worked in a place called J's Bar. You know it?"

"Nope. I'm from out of town, remember?" said Renée.

"Oh, yeah, of course you are. I forgot you weren't a local girl," said Amber. "Anyway, I worked at this smoky little place in downtown, and it was called J's Bar. It wasn't exactly a high-class establishment, but it was always pretty busy and they paid the floor staff quite well. I remember wearing high heels to work on my first day and regretting it about ten minutes after I stepped in through the door."

"How long did you work there?" said Renée.

"Two months," admitted Amber.

Renée looked surprised. "Just two months?"

"Well, two months and eight days. Then I got canned."

"Canned? What for?"

"There were a couple of other waitresses working there," Amber began, and Renée leaned forward slightly to listen to the story. "Most of them were sweet girls, really nice, but there was this one girl called Cindy Lennox. She looked all sweet and innocent and pretty, but between you and me, she was the biggest bitch in the whole wide world. All the other waitresses hated her guts and I know for a _fact_ that the bartender wanted her dead."

"So what happened?" said Renée.

"One day we were really busy in work - the place was packed and the rest of us were working our fingers to the bone, but what does our resident Barbie lookalike do? She sits right out on the floor with paying customers, pouring herself free drinks and flirting shamelessly with everything wearing pants," said Amber.

Renée tutted.

"Now," continued Amber, "After two hours of watching her sitting on her lazy ass doing nothing while the rest of us were working _our _asses right off, I'd finally had enough, so I called her a skanky ho who ought to take her Playboy bunny act somewhere else, and I poured a pitcher of iced tea over her stupid blonde head. Then I hit her with a tray and she ran off crying to the boss. Now, when the boss heard my side of the story he was actually quite sympathetic, but because I'd poured a perfectly good order of iced tea over another employee's head in full view of the customers, he told me that my conduct was inappropriate and I'd have to go. The truth is, he would have kept me on if I'd done it in the kitchen instead of out on the floor."

"Well that sucks," said Renée. "Is she still there?"

"One can but hope," said Amber tartly.

"You _know _what I mean," said Renée, grinning.

"Yeah, I know. Well, I went past the place on patrol before the outbreak and she was still there. Her car was parked out front too - in a "No Parking" zone, might I add," said Amber, smirking. "So I slapped a parking ticket on the windshield as I went by. Such a shame about the car accident, though…"

"What car accident?" said Renée.

"The car accident in which I saw a close friend of mine driving to the precinct and waved to him, thus causing him to _accidentally _run into the back of Cindy's Corvette and _accidentally_ shunt it out of a parking space and into a "No Parking" zone," said Amber, grinning wickedly.

Renée laughed.

"Wow," she said. "For a cop, you've got one hell of an evil streak, Amber."

"You would too if you'd spent two months working alongside Cindy Lennox," said Amber matter-of-factly. "It's enough to try the patience of a saint, believe me. If I never, ever see her again, I might just be able to die a happy woman."

"I wouldn't worry too much about seeing her again," said Renée. "She's probably dead by now."

"Yeah, probably. Guess the bartender got his wish after all…"

Arlene reappeared with a steaming pot of coffee and an extra cup. She poured fresh coffee into Renée and Amber's cups, then set the extra cup down on the table and filled it to the brim.

"You want me to take this one to your crazy friend out front?" she said, nodding towards Dr Harlech, who was still talking to the cactus in the mistaken belief that it was one of the townsfolk.

"Who, Dr H? Nah, she's not crazy, just a little short-sighted," said Renée, getting up. "Don't worry about bringing it outside; I'll take it out to her now. Oh, and by the way, my friend here thinks that you should change your shoes."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with my shoes," retorted the waitress, glowering at Amber.

"It's not that there's anything wrong with them," said Amber, flushing. "I think they're very pretty shoes. But you might want to consider something a bit more practical if you're going to be on your feet all day, or you'll be in agony by the end of your shift."

"Oh," said the waitress, her indignation subsiding. "You think I oughta wear some sneakers instead?"

"If they're more comfortable, yes," said Amber. "Of course, you're the one who's going to be wearing them, so don't let me tell you what to do. But you might want to consider it. Little piece of advice from an ex-waitress."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

"I bet you twenty dollars she doesn't listen to you and ends up with blisters tomorrow," said Renée, after Arlene had drifted off to wipe down a table at the far end of the room.

"Well, it's not like she wasn't warned," said Amber, shrugging and returning to her paperwork. "Not my fault if she decides to ignore good advice."

"Yeah. Anyway, I'm going to take this out to Dr H," said Renée, picking up the spare coffee cup. "See you in a minute."

Another waitress, a pretty brunette who went by the name of Pearl, was mopping the floor near the door. She stopped mopping for a moment and watched as the dark-haired girl in combats and a white vest top picked up the spare cup of coffee. Leaving behind the strawberry-blonde woman in jeans and a grey t-shirt, who was quietly reading through the small pile of books and papers on the table with an air of deep and profound concentration, the dark-haired girl went outside and headed towards the crazy-looking blonde woman in the blue print dress, who was still talking animatedly to the town's main distinguishing feature.

"Morning, Dr H!" she heard the dark-haired one call. "I know it's not 10 a.m. just yet, but I brought you some coffee anyway. Thought you might like a little refreshment. Bring the cup back inside when you're done talking to Mr Saguaro, okay?"

"Sssh! Don't interrupt!" said the blonde woman, frowning deeply and waving her away.

"Sorry. I'll go now," said the dark-haired one quickly, handing the cup to the blonde woman and hurrying back into the diner.

Pearl shrugged, and carried on mopping the floor. The newcomers were nice enough, she thought, but boy, were they _weird_. The only normal ones were the boy and the girl, and they hardly ever said a word. Their names, apparently, were Jack and Lisa; right now they were sitting at the far end of the diner, huddled together on the threadbare couch where the locals sat to watch the town's only television set. They were staring at the screen in complete silence - she didn't know what they were watching, but they both seemed utterly engrossed in it.

_Well, it__'__s not my place to comment on the customers, _she thought. _And if they__'__re from Raccoon City, like everyone in town says they are, then they__'__re probably allowed to be a little strange and subdued. Sounds like they__'__ve been through a really tough time. I wonder what happened to them?_

Jack and Lisa sat and watched the battered old television set in silence, unable to say a word as the words "Live & Exclusive" flickered across the screen. They already knew, or at least suspected, that the headlining item would be about Raccoon City; they only wondered what news today would bring of their former home.

"_Good morning, Raccoon County, I__'__m Pat Callaghan with an exclusive report on the horrific events unfolding in our county,__"_ announced the grave-looking newsreader, who was appropriately dressed in sober attire, including a plain black tie. "_In response to the massive outbreak of a lethal mystery virus in Raccoon City, the President announced at dawn today that he had authorised the launch of a nuclear missile to destroy the city, in order to contain the outbreak before it spread to neighbouring towns. The missile has since been launched, and we can now confirm that Raccoon City has been destroyed, with an estimated death toll of 100,000_."

Lisa gasped.

"Destroyed?" she said faintly. "No - no, that can't be possible! There must be some mistake; they can't just destroy a whole town with a nuclear weapon! They can't _do _that!"

"They just did, Lise," said Jack, staring absently at the computer graphics onscreen depicting the path of the missile and the destruction of the town. "Raccoon City ain't there no more. They wipe it right off the map."

"But there must have been people still left alive somewhere - people like us, people who survived the zombies," persisted Lisa. "There _must _have been!"

"I dunt think so, Lise," said Jack, although part of him wondered if Lisa could be right. He thought of huddled groups of weary, bloodstained survivors trudging through the bleak, burning city and searching for a means of escape, then suddenly being vaporised on the spot by a nuclear explosion. It could so easily have been him and Lisa, he thought. If they hadn't escaped in time there could so easily have been another two names listed among the dead.

He thought too of Dr Harlech, who had hidden for days in the Umbrella building and waited for someone to rescue her. How many people had barricaded themselves inside their homes, waiting for a rescue that would never come, only to be engulfed by fire and radiation which wiped them and their homes away in an instant?

"And what about the radiation?" said Lisa, who was almost in tears. "It's going to make people sick right through the county - maybe the whole state, maybe even a whole bunch of states! People who weren't even in Raccoon City are going to get cancer, and radiation sickness - it's not _fair_! How could they do this to us?"

Jack didn't even know if there was an answer to the question. He said nothing, and Lisa fell silent again, unable to think of anything else to say. Not really knowing what else to do, they kept watching the television, all the while trying to make sense of what had happened.

Their town was gone, just like that; wiped from the face of the earth by a nuclear weapon that had scythed away buildings, trees and everything else that had made up Raccoon City. Even when there were zombies all around them and their home had turned into a veritable hell on earth, right at the back of their minds had been the hope that, one day, they could come back home and things would be normal. Now that hope had gone, disappearing as suddenly and abruptly as Raccoon City itself. Thanks to Umbrella and its evil machinations, they could never go home again.

As footage and photographs of the old Raccoon City appeared on the television screen, Lisa started to cry. Her home, the only home she'd ever known, was gone. Her school, her bedroom, her beautiful house, her mother's prize-winning flowerbeds; all of it had been reduced to a pile of radioactive dust. Her entire past had been erased, just like that, as if it had never existed at all. As if it didn't even matter. All that remained of her life in Raccoon City were memories and a few possessions - the photograph of her parents, her mother and father's diaries, a stained and travel-worn backpack, her favourite bracelet and a few spare clothes. Everything else was gone forever.

Jack was too shocked to even cry as he watched the footage of the victims' families being interviewed in towns across Raccoon County. He thought of his school, his aunt's apartment above the record store, the skate park and all the other places where he'd hung out with the Street Rats, swept away by the nuclear blast, and felt nothing but a terrible emptiness deep inside his heart.

Worse still was the cold realisation that any chance he might have had of a normal life had been obliterated along with the town. After his parents had suddenly vanished from his life at the age of five, and after having spent a decade in Mexico being cared for by a prostitute who just happened to be his aunt, Raccoon City had been his last chance to be normal. Now he had nothing except a handful of belongings and Lisa, who had also seen her life destroyed in an instant.

There would be no normal life for either of them, not any more. No more classes at Raccoon City High School. No more hanging out with the Street Rats. No more ice-cream sundaes at Fiorelli's, or chatting to Mr Ziegler about punk and ska at Raccoon Records. As for future hopes of a normal adolescence, those were gone too. There would be no walks in Raccoon Park, no high school prom, no horror movie marathons at the movie theatre with Lisa, no first dinner date at Grill 13, no late-night kisses stolen on the corner of Lisa's street. There would be nothing but the odd state of existence they'd now found themselves in - stuck forever in a curious sort of limbo as they wondered what would happen to them next, all the while hoping desperately for even the briefest period of stability in their lives.

At least he had Lisa, and she had him too. They had no idea what was going to happen next, but at least it would happen to them together… wouldn't it?

Suddenly seized with terror at the prospect of being separated from the one important person he had left in his life, Jack grabbed Lisa and held her tightly, clutching her to his chest as if afraid that someone would snatch her away. Still crying, Lisa held onto him as tightly as he was holding onto her.

Neither of them noticed the slightly erratic sound of helicopter rotors that was coming from outside the diner and was rapidly increasing in volume.

"… _reports of two unmarked helicopters leaving Raccoon City at the time of the blast have yet to be confirmed by officials, but if eyewitness reports are to be believed, the first helicopter is heading for Rose Bay City,__"_ continued the newsreader. "_The whereabouts of the second helicopter are currently unknown, but the helicopter is believed to have been affected by the aftershock of the blast and may be having trouble remaining airborne _- "

As if on cue, the sound of rotors cut out, to be replaced with a whining sound that was getting louder and louder.

"What in the world…?" said Amber, frowning as she looked up from her paperwork and looked out of the window. "What's going on out there?"

Dr Harlech was sitting outside on the warm, dusty ground, drinking the coffee that Renée had brought out to her. At least, she thought it had been Renée - everything had been rather blurry.

She wondered vaguely why Renée had called her new friend "Mr Saguaro". Wasn't a saguaro a cactus of some sort?

She shrugged lightly, and turned back to her companion, who had remained absolutely silent throughout her attempts to make conversation. He really was rather rude, she thought irritably, not even having the basic decency to say anything to fill the increasing number of awkward pauses in the conversation. Still, that was some people for you - stubborn and prickly.

Although she couldn't see very much, and was beginning to curse herself for having put down her glasses in the first place, she was nevertheless aware of something approaching her.

"Do you hear that?" she said to her newfound friend. "Sounds a bit like a helicopter. One that's having engine trouble."

There was no response from the cactus.

"Hmph. Please yourself," she said, sipping the last of her coffee. "Anyway, for the third and final time, do you want me to go in and get you some coffee? Perhaps I can get my glasses too. I knew I shouldn't have put them down after I cleaned off the dust this morning…"

A dark shadow descended on the little town, growing larger and blacker.

"Look, I'm asking you a perfectly simple question," said Dr Harlech, frowning. "The least you can do is give me an answer."

The cactus stood completely still, soaking up water and nutrients from the ground without a sound.

"You know, you're very rude," Dr Harlech said crossly. "I'm not sure if I want to talk to you any more. In fact, I might just go inside right now and - "

A shadow fell over both woman and cactus. Dr Harlech glanced upwards to see what was blotting out the sunlight, and dropped her coffee cup in surprise.

As the occupants of the diner watched in astonishment, an unmarked helicopter fell right out of the sky and crash-landed right in the middle of Tumbleweed's only street, just outside the diner.

Earl woke up with a snort, and saw the wreckage of the helicopter outside his diner and the shocked faces of his staff and customers.

"What's goin' on 'round here?" he said suspiciously, looking around. "Who left that danged helicopter parked outside my diner?"

"Uh… not us?" said Renée hesitantly.

"Oh, well," said Earl, with an indifferent shrug. "Long as they move it when my wife brings the pick-up truck back from Willowherb, I don't care. That there's her parkin' space."

With that, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep again.

Jack and Lisa looked at each other, amazed. Surely that couldn't be the same helicopter that had been mentioned on the news - or could it?

Dr Harlech blinked. Exactly two inches in front of her nose was a large helicopter, unmarked and badly damaged, surrounded by a field of what was probably debris.

Her mysteriously silent friend had inexplicably disappeared.

"What's going on?" she said, suddenly frightened. She had no idea what was happening, or why, and the situation wasn't helped by the fact that everything was a blur without her glasses.

Without warning, a blurry figure emerged from the wreckage of the helicopter and collapsed onto the ground beside her with a long, low groan.

Blurry figure. Helicopter. Debris. Groaning.

She reached a conclusion.

"AAAAAAARRGGHH!"

Dr Harlech burst into the diner with a scream, startling the already shaken occupants even more.

"Zombies!" she gasped, clutching Amber's shoulders. "The zombies are coming to get us! They've learned how to fly helicopters and they're hunting us down! There's no stopping them now! We're doomed! Doomed!"

"Clarissa - what?" said Amber, trying without success to disentangle herself from the shaken scientist. "What are you _talking _about? Zombies can't fly helicopters!"

"That's what they want us to think!" said Dr Harlech shrilly. "But they can, I'm telling you! We're all _doomed_!"

"Uh, Dr H? You might want to put these on," said Renée, handing her the pair of glasses.

Dr Harlech squinted hard, then put her glasses on clumsily and saw the world suddenly come back into focus. When she looked out of the window, she could see a helicopter outside the diner which had landed on top of a cactus - now Renée's earlier comment made perfect sense, and she went red as she realised that she, a woman of science, had spent a considerable amount of time talking to a large piece of vegetation.

Lying on the ground outside was a man, groaning but clearly alive, if a little dazed. There were no zombies in sight, especially not ones which flew helicopters.

"Oh," she said feebly. "I think that man out there might need some help."

"He's not the only one," muttered Pearl, dipping her mop into the bucket and swabbing the tiled floor with lemon-scented water.

"Well don't just _stand_ there," said Renée, grabbing Dr Harlech by the hand and pulling her out of the door. "You're a doctor, Dr H! Go and help him already!"

Amber rushed out after them, if only to see what on earth was really happening outside. Lisa and Jack, however, opted to stay on the couch; they'd already had enough insanity for one day.

The young man lying outside on the ground near the diner opened his eyes. He wasn't sure what had happened to him, or why there were three attractive young women staring curiously down at him, but after the longest few days of his life, he was long past caring.

"Hi…?" ventured one of the women, blonde, bespectacled and possibly in her late twenties or early thirties.

"Are you okay?" added another, a pretty woman in her mid-twenties with bright green eyes and a mass of tight strawberry-blonde curls.

The man groaned and sat up.

"I guess so," he said slowly. "Where am I? Who are you? What happened?"

The third woman, who looked younger than the others and had short, slightly spiky dark hair, gave a sudden shriek of recognition as she saw his face.

"Carlos!" she screamed, hauling him to his feet by the scruff of his neck and then throwing her arms around him, almost knocking him backwards again. "Oh my God, you survived! I can't believe you're alive!"

"Renée…?" he said disbelievingly. "You - you made it out? But how? How did you survive? What about the others? Did they make it too?"

"Christina's dead," said Renée immediately. "Boris is dead too, and so is that guy they called Campbell. I don't know about anyone else. What about Sarge and Mikhail? Did they make it?"

A look of bitter distaste crossed the young man's handsome Latino features.

"Mikhail - I mean Lieutenant Victor - he died tryin' to save us from the Nemesis. As for the _sergeant_," he spat this last word out as if it was poisonous, "Nicholai tried to kill us all. He got away in the other helicopter and left us to die."

He shook himself.

"Never mind him, what about Jill and that other guy? Did they make it?" he said, looking towards the helicopter.

"The other guy made it," announced a man, crawling out of the glass-strewn cockpit and landing on the floor. "But he's feeling a little beat up right now."

"_Barry_?" gasped the woman with curly hair, rushing over to the helicopter pilot and picking him up. "Barry, oh my goodness, are you okay? What happened?"

"Amber? Is that you?" said Barry, who looked shocked to see the curly-haired woman. "I didn't think you were alive, kiddo. How did you make it out of that hellhole?"

"I'm kind of unsure about that myself," said Amber. "Barry, what happened to the rest of the STARS members? Are you and Chris the only ones left? I know Rebecca went off somewhere, but I haven't heard from her for months. I'm not even sure if she counts herself as a part of STARS any more. Did Brad make it out?"

"Brad? No," said Barry, looking slightly downcast. "Brad's dead."

"Oh no," said Amber, her face falling. "Poor Brad. I liked him. He was such a nice guy. And with Jill dead and Rebecca still missing, I guess that only leaves you and Chris."

"What?" Barry looked confused. "Amber, Jill isn't dead. She made it out too."

Amber's jaw dropped at this unexpected revelation.

"_What_?" she gasped. "Jill - she's _alive_?"

"Yeah," answered a female voice from the depths of the helicopter. "Can someone help me out of here, please?"

Still reeling with the shock of hearing her best friend's voice again, Amber reached into the helicopter and pulled out a slender young woman of about her own age, with short brown hair, blue eyes and an interesting outfit - a black leather miniskirt, an iridescent blue tube-top, a white sweater tied around her waist, and knee-high brown boots. It was indeed Jill Valentine, the same woman that Jack and Lisa had seen in the clock tower and mistaken for a zombie.

Jill and Amber stared at each other for a moment, unable to believe that they were actually looking at each other again, when for some time each had firmly believed the other to be dead. Then, laughing, the two friends hugged each other tightly.

"I can't believe you're alive, Jill!" exclaimed Amber. "I really thought you were dead…"

"Me too, Amber - I'm so glad you made it," said Jill. "It's good to see you again…"

"Is everyone okay?" said the blonde woman, who was starting to look a little left out amongst all this friendly affection.

"Yes, we're fine," said Barry, brushing some dust from his pants. "Thank you, miss. Where are we, by the way?"

"A little place in the middle of the desert called Tumbleweed," answered Dr Harlech. "Population supposedly one hundred and fifty-one, though I highly doubt it, judging by the size of this place."

Barry nodded.

"Me too," he said, looking around. "Oh, well. At least we made it here safely."

"You call _that _gettin' here safely?" said an indignant Carlos, pointing to the remains of the helicopter.

"Look, don't blame me, buster - it's not my fault that the EMP from the blast damaged the helicopter," said Barry, his brow furrowing. "Under the circumstances, this was the best I could do. I'm sorry it wasn't exactly a smooth ride, but we got here alive and in one piece, and that's what matters."

"I guess you're right," said Carlos, dragging his foot in the dust. "But we're still stuck here."

"Don't worry, Carlos, we'll find a way out of here," said Jill reassuringly. "After escaping from Raccoon City, getting out of Tumbleweed should be a picnic. There aren't any zombies here, are there?" she added, with a glance at Amber.

Amber smiled and shook her head.

"Nope. No zombies. The scariest thing here was the cactus, until you squashed it."

"Oh," said Jill, taken aback. "Did we?"

"Yes, you did," said Dr Harlech sulkily. "I liked that cactus."

"Oops," said Barry, with a slightly guilty look at the helicopter. "Sorry."

"Anyway," said Amber, ushering Jill towards the diner and indicating that the others should follow them. "Let's go inside. We have an awful lot to catch up on…"

Lisa and Jack glanced up again as Amber and the others entered the diner. However, they now appeared to have company; there were three other people with them, two male and one female.

The first person was a stocky, bearded man easily in his forties, with brown hair that was receding slightly. He was rather gruff-looking, but he smiled and nodded when he saw them. Jack noticed that there was a STARS insignia on the sleeve of his shirt, and wondered who he was.

The second man was much younger, probably about Renée's age or slightly older. He was Hispanic in appearance, quite attractive by most people's standards, with brown eyes and dark brown hair that was worn slightly too long. He wore the now-familiar UBCS uniform, but without the beret that they'd seen Renée and Christina wearing. He and Renée seemed to know each other well; they were laughing and joking together like old friends.

And then there was the woman. Jack noticed Lisa staring at her in incomprehension.

"Jack," she murmured, so that the woman wouldn't overhear her, "Isn't that the woman we saw in the clock tower?"

"Yeah, that be her," said Jack, after a moment's thought. "I remember her outfit. Kinda impractical for escapin' zombies. How come she be alive? I thought she turn into a zombie."

"Me too," said Lisa, starting to frown. "I don't understand it - she looks just fine now. Still, I'm glad she made it out okay. And Amber looks happy too."

"Well, she would be," said Jack. "Ain't she Amber's best friend or somethin'?"

"I think so," said Lisa.

The woman must have overheard them talking; she turned round and looked straight at them. Lisa blushed and looked away, embarrassed at having been caught gossiping about someone. She hadn't meant to cause offence. However, the woman smiled suddenly.

"Hi," she said. "Have we met before? You two seem to know me from somewhere, but I don't remember you."

"No, we haven't met," said Lisa. "Well, we have," she corrected herself, "because we saw you in the clock tower, but we thought you were a zombie and we ran away. You're Jill, aren't you?"

"Yeah," said the woman, slightly surprised. "How do you know my name?"

"She find your identity card," answered Jack, before Lisa could think of a reply.

"Oh, really? I was wondering where that went," said Jill, retying her sweater around her waist. "I don't suppose you still have it, do you?"

"Amber's got it," said Lisa.

"You're with Amber?" said Jill, and her face brightened at the mention of her friend. "You were in safe hands in Raccoon City, then. I'm glad she managed to save somebody."

Jack and Lisa exchanged slightly uncomfortable looks.

"Uh…" said Jack. "Actually, we rescue her."

"A zombie was attacking her when we first met," supplied Lisa, by means of explanation, as Jill's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "We managed to save her, and we sort of helped each other escape. Same with Renée and Dr H, and Christina too, I guess. We all worked together, really."

"Oh," said Jill, and her eyebrows returned to their normal position. "I see. Who's Christina?"

"She died," said Lisa. "But she wasn't a very nice person. She tried to kill Amber."

Jill's expression darkened.

"Then whoever she was, I'm glad she's dead," she said shortly. "I've lost enough of my friends in the past few months."

"Same here," Jack agreed wholeheartedly. "All my _amigos_ be dead now. Same with Lise, she lose all her uptown friends too, an' Umbrella kill her best friend an' put her in a tank."

"Oh no," said Jill, startled by this. "I'm so sorry… but you're not alone, sweetheart, because Umbrella killed an awful lot of people. They killed most of my friends too. I used to have a lot of friends once, but they're all gone. All apart from four - well, five. I think I made a new one."

"All our friends are dead," said Lisa. "Our families are dead too. The only people we have are each other, and maybe Amber and Renée, and Dr H. They're the only friends we've got now."

"You could be looking at another one," said Jill, smiling. "Anyway, let me introduce myself properly. I'm Officer Jill Valentine, formerly of the STARS Alpha Team. Over there is my old friend Officer Barry Burton, also from the STARS Alpha Team, and the other guy is my new friend from the UBCS, Corporal Carlos Oliveira. Nice guy, if a little bit of a flirt. He saved my life in Raccoon City, and I guess I helped him out a couple of times too."

"I'm Lisa Hartley," said Lisa. "I'm nobody special, really. Just a tenth-grader from Raccoon City High. And this is - "

"Jack Carpenter," interrupted Jack. "Lise an' I go to school together. I ain't anythin' special either, but we look out for each other."

"Hmm. Well, it's nice to meet you, Lisa, Jack. If you don't mind, I'm going to go over and talk to Amber now. There are a few things we'd like to discuss in private."

"Okay," said Jack. "Nice meetin' you, Jill."

Jill smiled again, then she headed over to the booth where Amber, Dr Harlech, Renée, Carlos and Barry were sitting. She watched as the two teenagers returned their attention to the television before sitting down next to Barry, who moved over obligingly to give her some more space.

"I see you met Jack and Lisa," said Amber, from across the table.

"Nice kids," said Jill, with a curt nod. "Who are they?"

"Survivors," said Amber. "Lisa's mother and father worked for Umbrella. They made something called the L-Virus which, according to their journals, was meant to be some sort of immortality serum, but Umbrella incorporated it into their bioweapons programme and transformed into a virus. Her parents died after being infected by the T-Virus. As for Jack, I don't really know so much about him, but from what I've gathered, he used to live with his aunt somewhere in downtown. I think his parents died when he was younger."

"I overheard them saying they weren't anything special," put in Renée. "Don't listen to them. They're the two most remarkable kids I've ever met. If it wasn't for them, we'd all be dead now."

"Renée's right," agreed Dr Harlech. "They saved our lives. Jack's a very brave kid, and as for Lisa, she might look too delicate to hold her own in a fight, but she's smart and she's got real guts. She went through a whole lab complex full of monsters all on her own to save Jack from the L-Virus, and she worked out how to beat Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" said Carlos curiously. "What's that?"

"Long story," sighed Renée. "A _really_ long story."

"Well, start from the beginning," said Jill. "I want to know everything that happened to you, starting with how you all got together in the first place. A mercenary, a cop, an Umbrella scientist and two kids make for quite a team."

"All right," said Amber. "Well, for me, it started when I escaped from the police station. I was running low on ammunition and then I was attacked by a zombie out in the streets. Suddenly out of nowhere comes this car, and it runs the zombie over. I look up and these two kids, Jack and Lisa, are driving - they picked me up and we made our way over to Umbrella headquarters. On our way there, we…"

"They picked up Christina and me," put in Renée. "The car broke down shortly after that, and we got attacked by crows, so we escaped into the sewers, but then we split up…"

Bit by bit, Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech related the story of their escape, interrupting each other with their own versions of events and arguing over different sections of the story. Jill, Barry and Carlos listened intently, paying particular attention to the L-Virus, Lucifer and the Lucifer Project, and to Jack and Lisa's involvement in the whole thing.

"… and we have all the evidence to prove it," finished Amber, pushing forward the books and papers. "We'll have photographs too, once Renée's fixed the camera we found in the labs, and we'll see what Umbrella has to say to _that_."

"They won't be saying anything for a while," said Barry gruffly. "There won't be a trial over this, you can guaran-damn-tee it. They'll weasel their way out of things just like they always do. We still have a lot of work to do before we can bring those scumbags to justice."

"Yeah," said Carlos. "We were thinkin' 'bout headin' over to Europe to join some guy called Chris Redfield."

"Chris and his sister are meant to be in France right now," agreed Barry. "The last time I heard from them, they said they'd located another top-secret Umbrella facility and they wanted us to help take it out. It's a major site; destroying it could completely shut down the Nemesis Project and all the European offshoots of the bioweapons programme. What do you say, Amber? You wanna join us?"

"Do we get to blow things up?" said Renée eagerly.

"Oh _yeah_," said Carlos, grinning. "We're gonna blow the whole place sky-high! Just you wait, Renée. You're gonna love it."

"Well you can count me in," said Renée firmly.

"Me too," said Dr Harlech. "The good thing about me is that I can work undercover - Umbrella already employ me, and if we fake a covering letter from the company explaining that they're transferring me to the Parisian facility, or wherever this place is, I can work there and maintain my cover for a few weeks, while passing on information to you until it's time to take out the facility. I'll have insider knowledge and I'll be able to help you."

"Sounds good," said Jill, nodding. "Good plan, Dr Harlech. We could definitely use your services."

"And mine!" said Renée, who was practically bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. "You can use mine too, right?"

"Definitely," said Carlos. "We always worked well together, and you know all kinds of useful stuff. Yeah, you gotta come with us, Renée."

Renée beamed.

"Anyway, are you in, Amber?" said Jill.

"Absolutely," said Amber. "Though we still need to clear up a few things before we leave. First of all, there's Renée's family. Her sister is extremely ill and currently being treated by Umbrella in return for Renée's service to the company. We need to get Thérèse Lavelle away from Umbrella and have her treated elsewhere in private. The treatment's expensive, but we'll work something out."

"I'll pay for it," offered Dr Harlech. "I said I would. My parents were extremely tight with money, but when they died a few years ago, Linda and I inherited all their assets. Linda got most of it, of course, but the money I got should just about cover the cost of the treatment."

"Okay, so we just need to get her somewhere safe," said Amber.

"We can do that," said Jill right away.

"My wife and daughters are in Canada right now," Barry told Renée. "Before I came back to look for Jill, I sent them to stay with an old friend of mine there so they'd be safe from Umbrella. Renée, I can arrange for your family to stay there too. There's a hospital nearby - a good one - and if your friend Dr Harlech can arrange the financial stuff, your sister can be treated there. She'll be safe."

"Thank you," said Renée gratefully. "That's a big weight off my mind."

"All right," said Amber. "Now, about the evidence against Umbrella. Jill, Barry, do you or Chris have duplicates of the mansion incident files?"

Jill nodded.

"Yes, we've got copies kept in six or seven different places around the country. The originals are still locked away in a safe at a military installation in Colorado. A close personal friend of Chris is looking after them, and he's under strict orders not to release the papers to anyone except Chris, Barry or myself. I've gathered some more evidence to add to the file, so I'll need to make copies before we leave. We'd better do the same for the Lucifer Project files."

"I agree," said Barry.

"Same here," said Dr Harlech.

"Okay, so that just leaves us one problem to deal with," said Amber, leaning in closer to talk to the others. Her eyes darted surreptitiously over to the couch where Jack and Lisa were sitting, and she lowered her voice. "What are we going to do with Lisa and Jack?"

"They can come with us," said Carlos. "They'll be safe with us, right?"

"No, absolutely not," said Barry, glaring at Carlos. "It's far too dangerous for them to come with us. I think I should give my wife a call and ask her if she can look after them. I know Moira and Polly could do with the company."

"No, Barry, that's a bad idea," said Jill gently. "I know they'd be safe in Canada with your family, but Amanda's been under a lot of strain lately. She doesn't need the extra burden of two strange kids to look after, as well as your girls. She needs to rest."

"And what do you mean, too dangerous?" argued Renée. "Back in Raccoon City they saved us all - hell, those kids eat danger for breakfast! Let them come with us and do something useful! I know they'd enjoy helping us get back at Umbrella, especially Lisa, after what happened to her parents!"

"Renée, I'm sure they would appreciate helping to destroy Umbrella," said Amber tactfully. "But this will be a very risky operation. Zombies and mutant bioweapons are one thing, but armed Umbrella guards trained to kill on sight? No, there's no way we can take them with us. I'm not prepared to put them at risk again. If they got shot, I'd never forgive myself."

"Well…" said Renée reluctantly. "I guess that's true. Umbrella marksmen are lethal - a lot of those guards will be ex-Death Squad recruits, so they'll be trained to the same level as Christina, and you saw how good a shot _she _was."

Amber nodded.

"So what do we do with them? We can't take them with us, but they have nowhere else to go, and it's not fair to foist them off on Barry's family. I feel responsible for their welfare, what with being their friend and all. I just wish I knew what to do…"

Dr Harlech had remained silent throughout this part of the discussion. Deep in thought, she had been quietly nurturing an idea, which seemed to have more and more merit every time she re-evaluated it. Finally, she said:

"Amber, Renée, you remember I told you about my second home in Arklay? Look, I know it isn't exactly an ideal situation, but I have a few old family friends still living in Arklay, and they can help us, I'm sure of it. I say we send them both to live in Arklay, and they can stay in my apartment. They'll be safe there."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Renée doubtfully.

"Positive," said Dr Harlech, her eyes gleaming. "With the Spencer mansion gone, Umbrella doesn't have any ties to the place any more, so they'll be basically ignoring Arklay, particularly after what's just happened to Raccoon City. Jack and Lisa can stay in my apartment, go to the local high school, make friends with the other kids, and my family's friends will keep an eye on them. When we come back, we can sort out something more permanent for them, but in the meantime, they can have a normal life. After all they've done for us, I think we owe them that much, don't we?"

Amber inclined her head in agreement.

"You're right, Clarissa," she said. "I think that's the best thing to do. After all, they're only kids. They've been through enough already, and it's not fair to make them fight Umbrella all over again. Let them be normal teenagers again, if only for a little while."

"Then that's settled," said Jill, satisfied. "Good. Now we can start making arrangements to join Chris and Claire back in France. But first of all, we need to get out of this place and back to civilisation."

"Yeah," said Carlos. "How we gonna get away from here?"

"I have friends," said Barry enigmatically. "Let me give them a phone call and I'll have everything sorted out. They can get us to the nearest town, I can copy these files and send them over to the base in Colorado - in person, I might add - and Jill can get in touch with Chris in the meantime. You, Dr Harlech, can sort out the arrangements for Thérèse Lavelle's medical treatment and her transport from, uh, wherever she is now, to the place in Canada where my wife and kids are staying. Amber, Renée, Carlos, you can help us with all this stuff, and then when we're done, we'll get someone to take the kids up to Arklay. Agreed?"

"Agreed," concurred the others.

"Very well then," said Amber, "We've got a plan. Now, before we do anything else, Jill, I think you and Carlos have a story to tell. How did you manage to get out of Raccoon City alive?"

"Well now, that's an interesting story," said Jill, smiling. "All right, I'll tell you. By the time martial law hit Raccoon City, it was too late for me to just walk out of town, so I started preparing my escape. I left the apartment I was staying in and made my way over to the precinct. When I got there, I ran into Brad and then suddenly this huge monster showed up - it was called the Nemesis, and it looked just like the picture you showed me of Lucifer, Amber - and before I could stop it, it killed Brad. I was absolutely terrified, and I ran into the station, but then it came after me, and…"

The others listened, enthralled by the story of Jill and the Nemesis. The old man at the counter and Earl, now awake, were listening with great interest; even the waitresses stood agog, captivated by the story despite their vaguely nagging sense of guilt about eavesdropping on other people's conversations.

The only two people not listening, in fact, were Jack and Lisa. Worn out by the grief of seeing their home destroyed, the two teenagers had fallen asleep together on the couch, still holding onto each other tightly. Despite their heartbreak, however, Lisa and Jack were sleeping peacefully; soon, they knew, things would be better. They would be moving on to a new town, to find a new home, new friends and a future free from nightmares. Life would be normal again, and with any luck it would stay that way. And in spite of everything else that they had lost during their escape from the city of the dead, they knew that they still had hope. Hope, and of course, each other.

**~ The End ~**

A/N: Well, folks, that's it. After two and a half years, it's finally finished. Regular readers and reviewers need not despair, however - a sequel is already underway! It's called "Resident Evil: Fallout", and although it's still in its early stages, I hope you'll enjoy following the next stage of Jack and Lisa's journey through the nightmarish world of survival horror.

Amber fans will also be pleased to know that I'm currently working on a side-project about her time in the RPD, from the aftermath of the Spencer Mansion incident, the events of the outbreak and the police station siege, right up to her final escape from the precinct. It's called "Resident Evil: Double Amber", for anyone who's interested!

I'd like to thank all my readers and reviewers, past and present, for their support and encouragement. I'd especially like to thank DarkKnight7 (my first reviewer), jkb, Pinguicha, kikoken, Tinkies, Corpasite, Nick Blackford, David Madison, Shortey, Reece1, DemonDoor, E-Z B, Desertcross4, noctorro, Uzziel (I love you) and lastly Shakahnna and Hello Captain simply for dropping in (it's an honour and a privilege to have been reviewed by you both!)

Lastly, I am very pleased and proud to announce that I got engaged to my fellow author and longtime Project Lucifer reviewer, Uzziel, while writing this fic and that we're now married! We're very grateful to everyone who has supported this story over the years, because it's the story that brought us together and it means a great deal to us both!

Thank you all for reading "Resident Evil: Project Lucifer", and I hope to see you all on the review pages of the sequel. Until then, I wish you all the very best of luck with your own stories. Keep updating, everybody!

Sincerely yours,  
HHOD :)


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